


The Right Reasons

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU: Different First Meeting, AU: University, Awkwardness, Blue scarf, Cuddling, Dating, Double Date, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Homophobia, Kissing, Kissing game, M/M, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3188573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A silly party game brings John and Sherlock together, but will confusion and interference from others tear them apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Party

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. Please take a look at our other works. Just a note, though, there's pretty much always going to be smut. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, but always smut. We can't help it: that's just the way we are.
> 
> We plan to add new work each weekend, so please subscribe.
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments --they mean so much.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

John had just been about to take a sip of his drink when he was pulled by Greg to the middle of the sitting room. There was a pile of stuff on the floor and he recognised his jumper which he'd taken off a while ago. "What's going on?"

"Seven minutes," Greg grinned.

"Oh no, come on --" John made to walk away but Greg pulled him back.

"Oh come on, John. It's just seven minutes.  Go in there and get a good snog -- what's the big deal?"

"Hey John! It's your turn!"

John didn't know who had called out, but he glared at Greg who pushed him forward. He turned and looked at the pile of clothes in the middle of the room. There were coats, scarves, jumpers, shoes and even a dress. For a second he almost picked the dress -- what could a girl walking around without a dress do in seven minutes? -- but with everyone watching and hollering, he felt defiant. He snatched up a blue scarf, looking down at it and then around the room. 

"Scarf! Who threw in the blue scarf?" someone shouted.

Sherlock was standing by the front door, trying to lift his coat out from under what seemed like a hundred others that were hanging on the peg on top of his. He reached into the pocket to retrieve his scarf, but it wasn't there. Then he heard someone shout something about a scarf. He cursed under his breath.

He was annoyed at himself for even coming to this party. He didn't know why he had. No, he did know -- he'd come because someone had asked him. Molly, a girl from his chemistry class, had always been pretty nice to him, despite the rest of the students' attitudes, which varied from totally ignoring him to being aggressively rude. When they worked with partners, it always felt safest to pair up with Molly. So yesterday in class when she had asked him to come with her, he had reluctantly said yes, but as soon as he walked in the door, he'd regretted it and had begun developing his escape plan.

But apparently that wasn't to be as someone had now stolen his scarf. He walked back into the sitting room and said, "The scarf is mine."

For a second the room went quiet. Everyone looked around and found who had spoken. Suddenly Anderson laughed loudly. "Ha! Watson got a boy!" The whole room erupted into laughter. John looked over at the guy and flushed, moving to hand him the scarf.

"We don't have to," he said.

"Yes, you do! That's the game!" Anderson called, coming over to grab the both of them and drag them to the cupboard.

Molly moved over to Sherlock and said, "It's okay. I know him -- he's nice."  
  
Sherlock tried to pull away from Anderson, but he was pushed in and the door was shut. He turned, but it was too dark to see the guy who had been pushed in with him. "I'm sure I'll regret knowing, but I seem to have missed some key information: why are we in here and why is it so funny that you got a boy?" he asked the darkness.

"We're supposed to snog -- or whatever -- for seven minutes. It's just a game," John was glad it was so dark as he explained this.

"Snog? Like kissing? Why?" Sherlock asked. "I don't even know you."

John shrugged but then remembered Sherlock couldn't see him. "I don't know -- that's the game. I mean, I've seen people try and have sex real quick."

"Where? When?" Sherlock asked. "Who were these people and why were you watching them?"

"I wasn't actually watching! They were in the cupboard like we are now," John said.

"Can't kiss while you're talking!" Anderson shouted, hitting the door.

Sherlock's head whipped round towards the door and then back towards John. "They're listening. Are they going to come and watch as well?" he asked in a slightly quieter voice.

"No, that's not allowed," John said quietly. "We can just stand here quietly and then ruffle our hair a bit and call it a day." 

"How long are we going to be in here?" Sherlock asked. "And does your hair normally look different after you've been making out?"

"Some people like to grab hair. Do you? No! I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that," John said quickly. 

"One more minute!" Anderson called.

"His watch is wrong. We've only been in here five minutes and four seconds," Sherlock said. "What's your first name, Watson?" 

"John," he said, wondering why Sherlock had corrected the time. "What's yours, then?"

"My name is Sherlock Holmes," he answered. "Are you saying you're not interested in snogging me then?"

"I-I didn't think you'd be since you didn't put in your scarf. Did you? It seemed like they stole it . . ." John was rambling, wondering if Sherlock was being serious. He'd never kissed a guy before -- thought about it, but had never actually done it.

"They did take it. But I was asking about you, not me. I'm just saying . . . we've only just met and the first thing you say is that you find the possibility of kissing me repulsive. A bit rude, don't you think?"

"I never said it was repulsive! I just . . . we've only just met!" John explained. But for a second there was no answer so John did something crazy. He reached up for Sherlock's cheeks, tugged him down, and pressed his lips to Sherlock's. Just then the door opened and he heard several people gasp. He pulled back and got his first look at Sherlock -- properly now in the light. He was very handsome and looked a bit surprised.

John let him go and stepped out of the closet. "We still had two minutes," he said, storming past them and out of the front door. He didn't know why he bothered coming to these things. And, god, if he ever saw Sherlock again, he'd melt into a puddle of embarrassment.

Sherlock stepped out and said, "Fuck off" to the boy standing there and headed towards the front door. As he passed Molly, he said, "I'll see you in class next week." He dug out his coat, knocking all the others to the floor, and then left the party.


	2. The Blue Scarf

Sherlock walked back to his room and got on his laptop. He Googled John Watson and then hacked into the university's system to look at his grades and campus address. He opened a new window and went shopping.

In his dorm John replayed the evening. Sherlock was interesting -- handsome and interesting. Why didn't John know him? He got ready for bed and then sat at his desk, searching for Sherlock on the Web. There was only one site -- something about tobacco -- but there was no picture or personal information.

He was about to get into bed when someone knocked at the door. For a second he thought it was Sherlock, maybe upset that John had actually kissed him like that. He moved to open it and sighed when he saw Greg. "I'm no longer in the party mood," he said. 

"After that?" Greg grinned, following John inside. "That was amazing! The look on everyone's face -- no one thought you were actually going to do it!"

John rolled his eyes. "It's just a game, Greg."

"Yeah, and you beat it! It's like you beat it," he corrected. "Are you gay now?"

"Will you get out of here?" John said angrily, pushing him towards the door.

"I just thought --"

"I played the game, okay? They said I had to kiss him and I kissed him. Now good night!" He closed Greg out in the hall and climbed into bed again. He really didn't know what the big deal was anyway.

Sherlock spent most of the weekend studying. Not for classes, of course, but he was working on a new blog post and needed a little more background to make it complete and accurate. He managed to sleep for a few hours each afternoon but otherwise, he was mostly glued to his desk -- staring at his laptop or books and drinking endless cups of tea.

The news of John's kiss with Sherlock quickly traveled through the residence hall, so John kept to his room for almost the whole weekend, only leaving for food and doing so very quickly. He wasn't in the mood to see anyone from the party. Except Sherlock. John had been wondering how he was doing but couldn't find him anywhere to ask. He wasn't on any social networks, and John couldn't find his school email address. That website had messaging, but the truth was John didn't really know what he'd say, so he didn't bother 

When he got back from class Monday afternoon, there was a note in his box that he'd received a package. He dropped off his things and went to pick it up. He had assumed it was a care package from home but there was no return address on it. He opened it and stared for a good minute before pulling out the scarf. It was a blue scarf, just like Sherlock's.

He snatched up his phone and found Greg's number.

_Very funny. You guys are idiots. -JW_

_What happened now?  -GL_

_The scarf. Really? -JW_

_What are you talking about? -GL_

John tossed the phone on his bed and looked at the scarf again. Why would the boys send it instead of doing something more dramatic and embarrassing? If it wasn't them then who?

His thoughts trailed off, and he got on the computer again, finding Sherlock's website. Now he had something to say.

_Did you send me a scarf? How come? Here's my number so you can answer faster. Please. -JW_

John added his number and sent the message, moving back to the bed to examine the scarf.

As Sherlock was walking home from the shop, his phone made a noise indicating a message on his website. He knew John's schedule -- he must just be getting home and receiving the package -- so he hoped the message was from him. He held the phone in his hand but kept it in his pocket until he got back to his room.

There he made a cup of tea, still with the phone in his pocket. The water took forever to boil, but he didn't peek. Finally, he flopped down his bed and took out the phone.

The urgency behind John's message pleased Sherlock no end.

He added John's number into his phone and sent him a text.

_It's a nice scarf. Mine's served me well. I hope you find it useful. SH_

John looked at the scarf and couldn't help smiling. Why had Sherlock really sent it? He draped it over his shoulders and for a moment he forgot about the kiss. And then he remembered.  Did this mean Sherlock didn't care he'd kissed him? Had he liked it? John wondered if he should bring it up.

_Thank you. I'm sure that I will. -JW_

_I take my gift giving responsibilities quite seriously. Would you mind meeting later this week for a few follow up questions? Your feedback would be appreciated. SH_

_Uh, sure. Where were you thinking? -JW_

_The cafe next to the library? SH_

_Okay. I'll make sure to bring detailed notes :) -JW_

_Wednesday afternoon at 3? SH_

_Sure, my class is out at one. -JW_

_I know. Bring the scarf. See you then. SH_

Sherlock rolled over on the sofa and closed his eyes. This had gone entirely to plan.

_Will do. -JW_

John didn't normally wear scarves, but he felt like he should now so he could properly answer whatever questions Sherlock was planning to ask.

Lying on the sofa with his eyes closed led to Sherlock falling asleep and by the time he woke up, it was getting dark out. He refilled his tea and sat down at his desk to work.

John kept the scarf wrapped around his shoulders while he did some homework. At some point during his work, his stomach grumbled loud enough to distract him. He texted Greg to meet up for dinner and he agreed. John threw on his jacket without thinking and left.

"Um . . . what is that?" Greg asked. Before John could see what he meant Greg was pulling at the scarf and grinning.

"Shut up," John said, pushing his hands away.

"Is that his?"

"No! It's mine -- the tag is still on it."

"You bought one?" Greg raised his brows.

"He sent it," John admitted, looking down at the scarf while Greg howled with laughter. "Shut up!"

They finally got dinner after John forbade the topic from coming up again. They talked about rugby and some girl Greg met at the party. When they were parting ways, Greg punched John's arm. "We should double date some time."

John looked up to argue, but Greg was smiling genuinely. "Maybe. I don't know what's going on."

"You spent seven minutes talking. And he sent you his scarf. I think I know what's going on. I'll text you for details in a couple days." 

John waved him off and headed for his room again, getting ready for bed. When he lay down he kept the scarf on.

Sherlock spent the following day on campus, dividing his time between tutorials and work in the lab. He did not get back to his room until after dark. He read for a few more hours and eventually got into bed. When his alarm went off, he reached over and grabbed his phone. He flicked open his calendar and smiled when he saw John's name was the only thing on today's agenda.


	3. The Meeting

In the few days before meeting Sherlock, John had spilled a bit of tea on the scarf, almost died getting tangled in the night, and used it as a pillow in the library when he was studying too late. When he got ready to meet Sherlock, he wore the scarf again and headed out.

Sherlock was already sitting in the cafe; he had arrived two hours early, which even he acknowledged was a little over-eager. He had paced himself with the tea though and hadn't eaten anything. He saw John through the window and smiled when he saw the scarf. He ran his hand through his hair, giving his head a little shake, and waited for John to come in.

John looked through the window before heading in, sitting at Sherlock's table and waving with the scarf. "Hello."

"Hello, John Watson," Sherlock said. "The scarf looks good."

"Yeah, it's good. I'm ready to give report," he smiled.

"Let's hear it then," Sherlock said. He reached his hand into his pocket and produced a small notepad and pen. "In case I need to jot anything down," he said smiling before making his face look all serious as if this were a matter of utmost importance.

"Well, it earned me an embarrassing look from my friend, it almost killed me in the night, and I spilled a bit of tea on it." John grinned and showed him the stain. 

"Hmm . . ." Sherlock said, jotting something down in his notebook before looking over the scarf carefully. "Are you sure you can be trusted with such a valuable item? Are you unable to care for yourself properly on your own?"

"To be honest I've never worn a scarf in my life. I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Well, it looks good at least," Sherlock said. He put the notebook and pen back in his pocket. "And what were you expecting from this meeting?"

John shrugged. "Nothing really. I mean, what were you expecting?"

"I never make my expectations public," Sherlock said. "Can I get you a tea? Shall we get lunch?"

"Lunch sounds good -- I skipped breakfast to get to class on time," John admitted. "Um…you didn't mind the kiss, do you? I just got caught up on the moment, you know?" 

"Is that your usual strategy? Awkward talk, dive in and then stomp out? Is it usually more successful?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," John said, shrugging again.

"I've not been well since that night actually," Sherlock said. "Is there any chance you might have passed a virus my way?"

"I-no," John shook his head. "I'm not sick or anything. I don't . . . have anything."

"Perhaps I'm just . . . love sick?" Sherlock said, looking down at his cup as he took a drink of his now cold tea.

"Oh. I…yes. I might have passed that to you. Sorry." John smiled and looked down, playing with the end of the scarf.

"Are you saying you've had symptoms?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes. I've had heart palpitations and drifting thoughts and I've been kissing strangers," John said.

"I see," Sherlock said. "Those aren't the symptoms I've been having. Did these start before the party? Perhaps you should be having this conversation with the person who's caused this, not the stranger that you kissed."

"No, I want to talk to the stranger I kissed because that's when it started. Maybe he gave it to me. What have you experienced?"

"An incessant urge to wank," Sherlock said matter-of-factly before looking up and smiling stupidly. "Let's go order some food." He stood up. 

John flushed but grinned wide as he followed. "You know, that's a different kind of love. Self love. Important but . . . no need for me." He lifted the end of the scarf and hit Sherlock with it.

"The urge has nothing to do with self-love, I can assure you," Sherlock said. He looked over the menu and ordered some soup and more tea. "I'd like to treat you -- get whatever you want."

John ordered soup as well. "Thank you. And by the way, a truly love sick person wants someone else there -- not just their own hand," he added.

"I'm well aware of that," Sherlock said. "However, needs arise and if the desired treatment is not available, one might have to rely on home remedies." He smiled cheekily. 

John grinned. "Home remedies can't be trusted. I'm a doctor, you know. Well, almost."

"And what treatment do you suggest?" Sherlock said, taking his fresh cup of tea back to the table.

"I could come over and give you a proper check up," John said a bit shyly, mixing his food around.

"That might be wise," Sherlock said. "Better safe than sorry." He took another sip of tea. "Is this the effect you usually have on strangers or am I a special case?"

"Special case -- this has never happened before," John said, looking up again. He smiled, taking in how handsome Sherlock really was.

"It's new to me as well," Sherlock said. He smiled genuinely for a moment. "So why were you at the party? Do you normally go to things like that?"

"Yeah, I go because it's always a team mate having it.  I usually avoid the stupid games though." John pushed his plate away. "I don't think I've seen you before."

"A girl in my chemistry class asked me to come with her. She's the only person in there who is kind to me so I guess I thought it'd be a good idea to go," Sherlock explained. "And now I've met you so it seems I was right."

John smiled wider.  "I'll have to thank her when I meet her."

"So you're not seeing anyone? A handsome, athletic, almost-doctor like you?"

"I am not," John said, flushing lightly. "And you?"

"Oh no, nothing like that," Sherlock said. "I'm . . . on my own most of the time."  
  
"Oh. Well, good. We're both available," John said. He smiled and sipped at his tea.

"It appears so," Sherlock said. "Though perhaps I should clarify. I am on my own most of the time, because it's what I prefer. I find other people difficult to get along with and as a result -- or perhaps it is the cause, I'm not sure it matters -- other people find me difficult to get along with. However, you…seem different to me so I am behaving very…unlike my usual self. I cannot guarantee how long before that version may appear again, but I…I don't know. I'm just…interested in you, I guess, and I hope you will stay around long enough for me to find out why." It wasn't quite the smoothest speech to give on a first date, but it was honest and Sherlock did not want to go further if they could not be honest with each other.

John listened quietly and when Sherlock was finished, he reached out and touched his hand lightly. "While we're sharing, I've never been with a boy before." He was drawing a small circle on the top of Sherlock's hand with his finger. "I've been thinking about it -- I mean I know I like both, but this is the first time I'm actually trying it. But I don't want you to think this is just an experiment. I really am interested in you. I just wanted you to know."

That was probably a good sign, Sherlock thought, not the newness but the fact that John was willing to admit it. It meant he cherished honesty as well. "Okay, then," he said, keeping his hand underneath John's. "We're both facing new things."

The server brought their food out, and they began to eat. They talked briefly about their families and about life before uni.

"Have you had a lot of girlfriends, then?" Sherlock asked.

"Two. I've been on a bunch of dates but that's all," he said. "Have you -- I mean, I know you said you're mostly on your own but have you been with anyone before?"

"I have," Sherlock admitted. "A man and a woman -- not together, I mean. I just thought I should investigate my options to see if I had a preference."

"That makes sense," John nodded, finishing his meal. "And your preference was men?"

"Yes," Sherlock said. "It most definitely was." He smiled a little.

John smiled wider. "Lucky me," he said.

"And you think you like guys even though you've never been with one? What makes you think you do?" Sherlock asked.

John shrugged. "I don't know exactly. But I know that I like you."

"Why? You don't really know me, do you? Why do you like me?"

"I like that you found me. You seem clever. And you seem really nice and funny."

Sherlock smiled. "I see you're quite a good judge of character," he said, laughing a little. "Your soup okay?"

"Yeah, it was really good," John nodded. "Did you like yours?"

"Sure," Sherlock said. He looked up at John. "Want to go back to mine . . .for a cup of tea?"

John looked down at his half empty mug and nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that," he said. He wondered if Sherlock really meant just for tea, but he would go and see how things played out.

Sherlock stood up and left the cafe. "It's not a far walk," he explained to John and after a few minutes, he reached over and silently held John's hand.

John grinned and squeezed his hand as they walked in silence.


	4. Back to Sherlock's For . . .

Sherlock unlocked his room and walked John in. He had tidied a little -- well, mainly he had collected and washed all the mugs that he left around the place. He motioned for John to sit down and moved over to turn on the kettle.

John looked around the room, taking in everything he could so he could try and learn more about Sherlock.  "Are those beakers?" he asked. 

"Yeah . . .I do experiments sometimes," Sherlock said. "Not stuff for class -- just trying to sort things out for myself, I guess." He poured the water into two mugs. "How do you take your tea?"

"Oh, cool," John said, looking around to Sherlock now. "Just milk, please."

Sherlock brought the tea over and set it down on the table in front of John. He moved over and sat next to John on the small sofa. "Did you enjoy your class today?" he asked, picking a mug up and holding it in his hands close to his face. 

"We had an exam," John said, taking a sip. "I think I did really well though so . . .yeah, class was fine," he smiled. "Did you have class today?"

"No, Tuesdays and Thursdays are my main work days," Sherlock said. "That way I can have the other days to do what I want. To be fair, most of the time what I want to do those days is work, but at least I'm in control of my time. I have a complicated relationship with sleep -- sometimes I sleep more in the day than at night -- so having to be somewhere at a specific time is not always ideal for me." 

"Oh. I love sleeping," John smiled. "Does that mean you skip class a lot?"

"No," Sherlock said quickly. "Well…sometimes," he added, "though not because of sleeping. I don't really believe in wasting time -- there have been occasions where I've gone to a lecture and have literally learned nothing new, so if I think there's a chance that might happen, I might not go, especially if I'm working on something here that'd be better served by my time." He took a sip of tea. "Does that mean you're lazy then -- if you're always sleeping through classes?" he asked.

"I don't sleep through classes!  It's a pain to get up, but I make my classes.  I like a schedule, I guess. Sometimes," John smiled. "I'm not lazy."

Sherlock smiled. "Good," he said. "I don't tend to like lazy people." He moved a little closer to John on the sofa, pulling his feet up onto the seat so his legs pressed against his chest. He waited a moment and then leaned a little against John, resting his head on John's shoulder.

John smiled. He shifted to wrap an arm around Sherlock's waist. "I'm glad they stole your scarf," he murmured. He turned his head a bit to breathe in his hair.

"I'm glad you liked yours," Sherlock said softly.

John kissed his head lightly, dipping to kiss his temple, willing him to look up so they could kiss properly.

Sherlock smiled at John's kiss and then sat up properly, moving a little away. "Do you already have plans for the weekend?" he said a little awkwardly. "Maybe we could get dinner or something . . . like a date . . ."

"I-no, I don't have plans already." John wondered why he'd moved away like that. Nervously he moved a little closer.

Sherlock stood up from the sofa, grabbing his cup and moving over to the counter. "More tea?" he asked and turned, looking down at the kettle. 

John tried to remind himself that they had in fact only just met and that expecting anything more than a kiss was crazy. But he didn't even get a kiss.

Sherlock turned back around and said, "Are you staying a little longer? We could watch telly or something. But if you've got to go, I understand."

John set his mug down and looked over at him. "I thought we could hang out a bit -- do you want me to go?"

"No. Stay," Sherlock said. He grabbed some biscuits from the cupboard and brought them over. He sat back down and turned on the television. "Shall we watch the news maybe or is there something else you'd like to see?"

"It doesn't matter to me," John said. He debated scooting closer again, maybe only to cuddle. He was feeling bad about being denied before so he stayed where he was, eating a biscuit.

Sherlock took a biscuit but as soon as he bit into it, he realised it was stale. "Sorry," he mumbled. "These biscuits are kind of gross." He ate it anyway. They watched the news until the sports bit came on. "Do you follow football then?" he asked.

"Sometimes. I'm not too involved in all of that. Greg is really into it -- he tells me what I need to know. And the biscuits aren't so bad. Don't worry." He took another one, munching slowly. After a few minutes he reached out to hold Sherlock's hand.  
  
Sherlock smiled at John's touch. "I'm not good with food really," Sherlock said. "Trust me, you don't want to see what's in my fridge." He was glad John hadn't wanted to talk about sports, but he literally knew nothing about the topic. He changed the topic to their studies, asking about John's classes and which ones he enjoyed most.

"I like biology and my writing class," John said. "What about you? I'm going to guess chemistry," he smiled.

"True," Sherlock said. "I mostly like the sciences." He moved his fingers a little on John's hand. "Do you have homework to do over the weekend? Do you want to come over tomorrow and do it together so we get it out of the way before the weekend?" 

"Yeah, okay," John smiled. "I have a biology study guide to start, so I can do that."

"Good," Sherlock said. He turned his focus back to the television for a bit. He liked that John was here. He was enjoying being around him and felt good about having invited him into his room.

"Do you have a lot of work? Should I bring dinner?"

"Sure, that'd be nice," Sherlock said. "Nothing fancy, though."

"I was just going to get some Chinese -- is that okay?"

"Perfect," Sherlock said. "I'll just take some fried rice and an egg roll." He sat up a little and reached for his wallet. "Here, let me give you some money for it."

"Oh no, I don't need money for it," John said, shaking his head.

"Oh, all right," Sherlock said. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He reached for it.

_We need to talk. MH_

Sherlock slipped it back into his pocket. He looked over at John. "It's my brother," he explained. "I'm sorry -- I really have to call him back. Do you want to come back over tomorrow -- maybe around six?" He smiled a little.

"Oh, sure," John said, getting up from the sofa. "Just text me when you're ready for me."

"All right," Sherlock said. He walked John to the door. "I had a nice time. I'll see you tomorrow." When John left, Sherlock went to the window to watch him walk away.

Then he called his brother.

"What do you want?" Sherlock asked as soon as Mycroft answered the phone.

"It's good to speak to you as well, brother," Mycroft said. "What's got you in such a poor mood? Did I interrupt an important experiment?"  
  
"None of your business," Sherlock said. "What do you want?"

"I think Mother is feeling neglected. Could you please ring her or possibly go home for a visit?"  
  
"That's it?" Sherlock asked. "Why do you always have to be so dramatic? Couldn't you have just asked this favour in a text?"  
  
"I could have, but then it would have denied us this lovely chat," Mycroft said sarcastically. "Anything new there?"  
  
"Nothing whatsoever," Sherlock answered, wondering if there was any way possible he already knew about the party or John or their upcoming date. No, he couldn't, he assured himself. He knew Mycroft must just be fishing, and he wouldn't fall for his older brother's tricks.

"Lovely chat over then," Mycroft said. "See, wasn't that worth it? Goodbye, Sherlock." He hung up the phone before Sherlock had a chance to say anything else.

Sherlock dialed his mother and spoke to her briefly. He mentioned nothing about John, of course; he talked about his work and she talked about what she and his father had done last weekend. He didn't really mind talking to her. She hadn't seemed particularly needy, though, which raised Sherlock's suspicions again about the true purpose behind Mycroft's contact.

Before starting work for the evening, Sherlock sent John a text.

_Thanks for coming over today. SH_

_Thanks for having me. It was fun. -JW_

When John got back, he went in to watch telly when Greg called.

"Home already?"

"I'm going back tomorrow," John said.

"Round two, huh?" John could almost hear the grin.

"Shut up. No. We're just hanging out." John hesitated. "I think he wants to move slow. We didn't even kiss again."

"Hmm. Molly says she's really surprised he's even doing this sort of thing."

"Who's Molly?"

"Oh sorry -- the girl I met at the party. She's his best friend or something. Just give it time."

"Yeah, all right. I'm going to take a shower. I'll talk to you later." John hung up and went into the shower. 

Sherlock finished his reading and decided to go to bed early. He got under the covers and retrieved his phone.

_You still awake? SH_

_Yup. I'm just reading for a bit. -JW_

_I've gone to bed. But I'm not really tired, I guess. SH_

_I'm not either. Was everything okay with your brother? -JW_

_Yes. I apologise for that. I hope I wasn't too rude. He's a bit of a pain really. SH_

_No, you were fine. Don't worry, okay? I'm glad it was nothing serious. -JW_

_Are you in bed? SH  
_

_Yeah, it's my favourite place to read. -JW_

_Are you sleepy? SH_

_Not really. It's a bit early. -JW_

_What time do you need to get up in the morning? SH_

_Nine. It's not too early. What about you? -JW_

John put his book down on the desk and settled more comfortably with his phone.

_No particular time. To be fair, I often get up around four for a few hours and then go back to bed. I told you my sleep was unusual. I hope I'm not bothering you. SH_

_Not at all. I'm glad you texted me. -JW_

_I bet you look very handsome curled up in bed. SH_

John flushed and smiled softly.

_I think I do as well. I wish you could see. -JW_

_I do too. I thought you looked very handsome just sitting on the sofa earlier. SH_

John's brow furrowed lightly. Why had Sherlock shot him down before if he'd been interested?

_You looked handsome as well. You always do. -JW_

_It's the scarf, I tell you. It makes all the difference. Have you noticed more people flirting since you've been wearing it? SH_

_Not really. -JW_

_You haven't worn the scarf to bed, have you? That was sweet that you did, but probably a bit dangerous. SH_

_Not again. I learned when it tried to strangle me last time. If you were here, you could protect me. -JW_

_You're the brawn in our partnership. SH_

_Uh oh. I was done in by a scarf. We're in trouble. -JW_

Sherlock rolled over and smiled to himself.

_I like you, John Watson. SH_

John grinned.

_I like you too, Sherlock. -JW_

_I'll see you tomorrow. Around six for Chinese and studying, okay? SH_

_Okay. See you then. -JW_


	5. Studying Together

When Sherlock woke up in the middle of the night, he didn't get up to read. Instead he looked over the texts with John again. He wasn't quite sure what this feeling was -- he'd never really had it before -- but decided not to spend too much time worrying. He was looking forward to seeing John again and didn't want anything to spoil that. He fell asleep once more.

John woke up for class and rushed out -- he'd been having a lovely dream and had slept too long trying to hold on to it. It was hard to concentrate the whole day. He kept looking at the messages and thinking about Sherlock. 

When Sherlock woke up again, he slowly dragged himself out of bed and to the toilet. Then he made a cup of tea and sat down at his desk. He decided that if he started working right away, there'd be no problem if he occasionally thought a bit about John. So that was precisely how he spent the day: working and thinking about John. 

When John was finished with his classes, he went straight to home to get ready.  He still had a while before going to Sherlock's, but he was nervous and excited and didn't want to wait. When he was all finished he sat on his bed and waited for the text. After five minutes, he couldn't take the waiting so he sent one. 

_Hello. -JW_

The message made Sherlock smile, which he knew was a bit silly, since all it said was hello. But he did smile and surely that was a good thing.

_Hello, John Watson. How has your day been so far? SH_

_It's been a bit boring really. I couldn't concentrate on anything.  -JW_

_Laziness or love sickness? SH  
_

_I'm not lazy, remember? -JW_

_John, I might be suffering from a little love sickness as well. Of course, I'm still able to work because I am obnoxious like that. But I've been thinking a lot about you. I hope that's okay. SH_

_Of course it's okay. I've been thinking about you a lot as well. -JW_

Seeing that made Sherlock very pleased.

_I'll see you around six. SH_

_See you. -JW_

Sherlock tidied up his workspace and then the rest of the place, taking out two plates, sets of silverware and mugs. He washed them all just to be sure they were clean. Then he changed the sheets on his bed, even though he felt a bit stupid after doing that. What was he expecting to happen? He didn't know -- that was the problem and the reason he was feeling so unusual.

John munched on some biscuits, and then remembered he was supposed to be bringing food so he called to order that. Finally he left and picked up the food, heading back to Sherlock's. He knocked on the door, smiling and holding the food up in front of him.

When John arrived, though, Sherlock immediately relaxed. He was just so glad he had come. He took the food to the table. "Eat first and then study?" he asked.

John nodded. "Yes, I'm starved," he smiled. "I like what you've done with the place." He added, noticing it looked . . . tidier.

"Just because I'm not around people a lot doesn't mean I'm unaware that there are many ways to effectively work. My mess seems to help me, but I wasn't sure it would work for you so I tried to come up with a bit of a compromise," Sherlock explained. He felt his cheeks flush a little. He brought out the clean dishes and silverware. "Did you bring something to drink or can I get you something?" he asked.

"I'll just have some water, thanks. I forgot about drinks," he admitted.

"Water is good for me," Sherlock said, setting down a glass for each of them. He sat down and started to dish out the food. "Have you got a lot of homework? Maybe we could watch a movie if it's not too late once we've finished," he said.

"Sure. Like I said, I only have the review to get through so it's not too much." John dug into his food, humming happily.

"What kind of movies do you like?"

"A lot of different things. Old movies, action adventure, super hero." John smiled and shrugged. "What about you?" 

"I'm not sure -- old ones, I guess," Sherlock said. "But we can watch whatever you want." He really meant it: he'd watch eight hours of sport if it meant he could sit on the sofa next to John the whole time.

"Do you have any films? Sometimes they play something on the telly -- I'm sure we'll find something by the time we finish our work."

"I don't have any, but I'm sure we can find pretty much anything online," Sherlock said. He looked down at his plate. He had eaten more than he normally would, because he didn't want John to have wasted his money. When he finished, he put his plate on the table and turned on the kettle, sitting down again to wait for it. "I usually sit at my desk to work -- you could work here or on the sofa or…wherever you want, really," he said awkwardly.

"The sofa will be perfect. I do all of my homework in my bed so I am used to that." John smiled and finished up his meal, taking the plate to the sink. "We could have eaten from the boxes so you didn't have to wash up."

"I'll do them later," Sherlock said. "I don't mind." He made the tea and then carried his over to his desk. Before sitting down, he said, "Seriously, whatever you need to be comfortable, just…make yourself at home." He finally sat down and opened his laptop.

John smiled. "I know. Thank you." John pulled out his book and curled up on the sofa, writing down his answers. It was nice working here with Sherlock, glancing up and seeing him every few minutes.

Sherlock had completed most of his work before John's arrival, but he busied himself with loose ends and ideas for future experiments. He liked being able to look over and see John here, in his room, in his space. They worked quietly for a while, with Sherlock refilling tea as necessary.

When John finished he looked over at Sherlock, waiting a few minutes before speaking. "I'm all done," he said casually.

"Are you leaving?" Sherlock asked, his voice revealing a panic that he hadn't intended or expected to be there.

"What? No-didn't we -- we said we'd watch a film. I was just saying," John explained.

"Oh good," Sherlock said, worried he was blushing again. "Yes, let's." He closed his laptop and brought it over to the table. "I can hook this up to the telly and we can watch anything we find online. What do you want to look for?"

"Um . . . how about _Captain America_?" He felt shy suggesting it, not knowing what Sherlock thought about movies like that.

"That's fine," Sherlock said, having no idea whatsoever what it was. "Here," he said, passing the laptop to John. "Can you find it? I'll go get us some more water."

John nodded, taking the computer and looking up the movie. When he found it, he set the computer back on the coffee table and waited for Sherlock.

Sherlock settled down on the sofa, not close to John but not precisely at the opposite end either. He tried to focus on the movie once it began, but a large part of his was too aware of the fact that they were on the sofa again, where they had touched last night.

John was a nervous wreck. With every scene he wondered if Sherlock was liking the movie. He wanted to glance over for his reactions but didn't want to get caught staring. He fiddled with his hands in his lap, hardly watching the movie.

About half way through, Sherlock finally got up the guts to say, "Could we hold hands again?" He kept his face focused on the screen.

John looked over at him and then down at his fidgeting hands and nodded. He tried to subtly rub his palm on his pant leg before he reached over for Sherlock's hand. "I would like that," he said. Then he waited a few seconds before adding, "Do you like the movie?"

"I think so," Sherlock said. "I like the special effects a lot. Thanks for choosing it." He squeezed John's hand a little.

John let out a relieved breath and then flushed because it might have been too loud. "You can pick next time," he offered, smiling over at Sherlock. He wondered if it would be okay to cuddle today; he had an overwhelming urge to move and lean on his shoulder.

Sherlock smiled at the phrase 'next time.' He moved -- well, it was more as if he were simply letting gravity shift his position -- a little closer to John, and lifted his legs to rest on the table in front of them.

John almost moved in but then remembered Sherlock asking about their hands. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times while he gathered his courage. "Could I lean on you?" He asked quietly. 

"Yes, please," Sherlock said softly.

John shifted a bit closer and he leaned in, his arm meeting Sherlock's before he let his head rest on Sherlock's shoulder. "I'll behave this time," he whispered, eyes fixed on the screen.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked.

John flushed, not having expected to have to explain. "I-the kiss last time. I won't do that again. Unless you want to. Not that we have to -- I'm sorry." He pulled up and sat normally again, but he kept his hand grasping Sherlock's.

"I've not got anything against kisses," Sherlock said, leaning back against John.

John looked down at his head but didn't say anything. Last time John had kissed his head, Sherlock moved across the room. He didn't try it again now. He leaned his head on Sherlock's and continued watching the rest of the movie.

Sherlock lifted John's hand to his mouth and kissed it softly. "See?" he whispered. "All's fine."

John turned his head and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's temple again. "All's fine," he repeated softly.

They sat pressed together watching the end of the film. As the credits rolled, Sherlock looked at his watch and said quietly, "It's later than I expected it to be. Would you…do you want to stay over?"

John's breath hitched slightly but he nodded. "Okay," he said, not moving yet. This was certainly not running to the other side of the room, so what exactly did this mean?

Sherlock leaned forward and shut down his computer. "You can use the bathroom first. Do you want to borrow some pajamas or . . . you can sleep however you want, sorry, whatever you want is fine."

John got up and went into the bathroom splashing some water onto his face. His stomach was a twisted mess of nerves as he got out and went to the bedroom. "Which side -- I mean, am I sleeping here or on the sofa? I don't mind." He trailed off and covered his face. 

"I thought we could sleep in the bed . . . unless you feel uncomfortable about it. I mean, that's what I meant, that's what I was offering, I mean," Sherlock crawled into his bed. "The sofa's small, John. Just come get in here and let's stop being weird about it." He smiled a little.

"I just wanted to make sure that's what you meant. I wasn't being weird," John said. He took off his shirt and jeans, folding them on the chair in the corner before climbing into Sherlock's bed. 

"I didn't mean you really, I meant me -- I'm being weird even though I don't mean to be," Sherlock said. He slid down the bed a little, resting his head on the pillow. "I don't really know how to act . . .  just, I just wanted you to stay. I like being around you." He turned his head and smiled. "Okay?"

"Okay," John smiled. "And you're not being weird at all. I don't think so anyways. I'm glad you wanted me to stay -- I wanted to stay," he said. 

"Good," Sherlock said. "All right, good night then." He leaned over and turned off the lamp. He slid a little closer to John, resting a hand on his chest and curling a little bit around him.

John put his arm around Sherlock, licking his lips softly as he settled close to him. "Good night, Sherlock."

Sherlock nuzzled a bit against John's shoulder, putting a few soft kisses on his t-shirt. His hand stroked John's chest softly.

John felt the small kisses and he warmed, the heat spreading through deep into his belly. "Sherlock . . ." he whispered, rubbing his back lightly. 

Sherlock liked this cuddling. There was a part of him who wanted to stay awake like this all night, but at the same time, the feelings were so calming and safe, Sherlock could feel himself starting to relax and get sleepy.

John sighed softly and closed his eyes. Things were going very slowly -- but Sherlock's messages had hinted otherwise. Had they? Or had John misread them? Maybe John just wanted more and he'd been pushing that onto Sherlock. On their date he sounded so sure that he liked men that John had expected him to make a move. Why wasn't he? Maybe he didn't like John as much as John thought he did. Eventually he fell asleep, snoring softly beside Sherlock. 

Sherlock, too, fell asleep. When he woke up in the middle of the night, he looked over at John, sleeping next to him. Sherlock was so glad he had stayed. He reached over and kissed John lightly on the mouth. He shifted a little to get comfortable again and tried to go back to sleep.


	6. Making A Date

In the morning John woke up a bit panicked but as hard as he tried to remember why he couldn't. Maybe a bad dream. He looked over and saw Sherlock sleeping, watching him quietly. He wished he could look into that head -- to read his mind and know what he wanted out of this. He slipped out of bed and used the bathroom, making tea for the both of them before coming back to the bed. He put the mugs down before climbing in and scooting closer. 

Sherlock opened his eyes when John got back in the bed. "Good morning," he said, smiling before leaning over and snuggling him a bit. He put a kiss on the sleeve of John's t-shirt. "You look handsome when you wake up."

John smiled. "You look handsome all the time," he murmured. He kissed Sherlock's forehead. "I made tea, I hope that's okay."

"Of course," Sherlock said. "I could get used to this each morning. The tea, I mean. Well, and seeing you. Do we have to get up right away? When's your first class?"

"Not until two," he smiled. If they didn't get up right away what would they do? Was Sherlock thinking about making a move now or not? He was so hard to figure out. 

"Good," Sherlock said, lying back a little on the pillow. "How should we spend the morning?"

John shrugged. "When is your first class? Are you going today? Do you have plans this weekend?"

"I don't have class today," Sherlock said. "Well, I mean, I have some things to do but not at any specific time." He pulled John a bit closer, cuddling him. "Would you still like to do something together this weekend?"

"Yeah, I'd like that. Maybe we could go to the cinema or out to dinner or something," John suggested. He wrapped his arm around Sherlock and rubbed his back again. 

"Mmm. . . that's good," Sherlock said softly. He shifted his body a little, turning away from John. "Will you rub my back a bit more?"

John put his hand flat on Sherlock's back and rubbed slowly. But after a bit the fabric was burning his hand and giving him chills. He paused, slipping his hand into the shirt, rubbing his skin now. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," Sherlock said. "It's even nicer now." After a few minutes, he sat up a little, took off his shirt, and lay back down. "There. I'll do you as well if you want."

John watched him taking his shirt off, biting his lip lightly. He really was gorgeous. He cleared his throat lightly and continued rubbing his back. "Okay," he finally said when he remembered Sherlock had said something. 

Sherlock pressed himself a bit against John's hands. "That's good," he said. "Maybe you should quit school and become a massage therapist."

"Not everyone's back will be as nice as yours," John murmured. "And I know I will see gross things as a doctor but those are things that are supposed to be gross -- things I can fix."

Sherlock turned round and faced John. He put a hand on John's waist and looked into his eyes. He smiled a little and then said, "Take your t-shirt off and turn over then."

John flushed lightly and sat up, pulling the shirt over his head. He turned before it was off so that he wouldn't see Sherlock looking at him. He settled on his side, waiting. 

Sherlock rubbed his hands over his back like John had just done to him. He massaged his shoulders and down his arm. Then he slid an arm around John's waist and slid his own body closer. He put a kiss on the back of John's neck and said, "This is nice, being close like this."

John closed his eyes and tried to keep his breathing steady. He could feel Sherlock's bare skin touching his own, and he was embarrassed to feel the heat pooling in his groin -- just from something simple like that. "Yes," he agreed quietly, not able to say anything else out loud. _Please don't move away._

Sherlock nuzzled John's shoulder again. It did feel good. "It's unusual, though, don't you think?"

John shook his head. "No, not really. I-I like you so it makes sense that this would feel so nice," he admitted. 

"I just mean . . . _why_ do I like you so much? Not that you're not likeable, but I hardly know you and I normally don't even like the people I know, let alone relative strangers . . ." Sherlock was rambling a bit, but these were the thoughts in his head.

"Oh. I . . .well, I don't know how to answer that. I am very flattered though," he smiled softly. 

"I didn't expect you to have an answer," Sherlock said. "It's just . . .unusual." He put his mouth to John's skin again, and the nuzzling turned into soft kissing.

"Sherlock," John breathed, shivering lightly as the soft kiss on his back. He tried not to shift, trying to keep his whole self under control. It wasn't even the sexiest thing he could have done -- just a soft kiss on his back -- but John could hardly stand it. 

Sherlock dropped his head down and rested it on the pillow. He squeezed his arm a little more tightly around John and tangled their legs a bit. "I wish we could stay like this all day," he said quietly.

"Me too," John murmured, covering Sherlock's hand with his own.

They lay there for a bit longer. Eventually, Sherlock heard John's stomach growl. "Why don't we go get some lunch before your class?" he suggested. "I don't have anything here really, but we could stop back at the cafe."

"Okay," John smiled turning to face him. "That sounds good." He pecked a quick kiss on his lips before getting up and getting dressed again.

Sherlock stood up as well, stretched, and then grabbed some clean clothes before heading to the bathroom. When he came out, he watched John gathering up his stuff. "Thanks for coming over…and for staying," he said.

John smiled. "Thanks for having me. Um, I'll text you so we can plan for this weekend, okay?" 

"All right," Sherlock said. "Should we get some lunch or are you just going to head straight to class?"

"Actually, I should get to class because I have to stop and turn this in as well," he said, patting his bag to indicate the study guide. 

"Okay," Sherlock said, looking down a little. "Okay. I'll wait for your text then." He moved over to his desk to sit down. "Thanks again for coming over."

John smiled, "See you soon," he said before leaving. He got on the shuttle for the science building, thinking about Sherlock the whole time. When he finally got to his class his phone vibrated and he snatched it up quickly, thinking it was Sherlock. It wasn't. 

_Want to meet for dinner? -GL_

_Sure. Where? -JW_

_Come to mine, I have pizza. -GL_

_Okay. -JW_

John started taking notes, trailing off and doodling Sherlock's name in the margin. He shook his head and crossed it out, trying to go back to taking notes. He didn't know exactly where they stood, but they kept setting up dates so that had to be a good thing. After class he headed to Greg's, letting himself in. "Hello?"

"Hey!" Greg grinned, nudging John's arm with his fists. 

John's brows furrowed. "What? What are you doing?"

"I came to your dorm last night and you weren't there," Greg grinned wider. 

"Oh. Well, yeah, I was at Sherlock's." John put his bag down and sat on Greg's bed. "Nothing happened."

"Yeah, right."

"No, Greg" John said again. "Nothing happened." 

"Nothing?" Greg's face fell as he sat down beside John.

John shook his head. "We hardly kissed. He asked me to stay the night but we just…slept," he admitted. 

"Um, I know there's such a thing as taking things slowly but . . .not even kissing?" 

John looked over at him. "Why do you say it like that?" he asked. 

Greg shrugged. "Doesn't sound like he's really into it, does he?"

Greg went to get the pizza out and John looked around the room. Was that true? He thought about how reserved Sherlock was being and wondered if it was fear of starting something new or reservations of not really liking John. Was he just experimenting to see if he really wanted this? Of course that's what dating was but really they were hardly doing that -- this dinner at Greg's was more intimate than last night's study session. When he came back John asked about his girl instead, not wanting to talk about Sherlock anymore until he figured it all out. 

After John left, Sherlock sat at his desk, but he wasn't really working. He was staring off into the room, remembering everything that had happened while John was here. He'd been here so long without really meeting someone like John, someone . . . he could tolerate being around. Molly was pretty much the only other one who fit that category. Of course, his friendship with Molly wasn't the same thing, he admitted to himself. It wasn't just that he could tolerate hanging out with John. He wanted to be with John. He wished John were here right now.

After John left Greg's he considered texting Sherlock, but he found he was a bit angry at him. He didn't mind taking things slow, but he wished Sherlock would have told him that -- that they had talked about it -- instead of all of these mixed signals. He watched a movie when he got back to his room, took a shower, and didn't text Sherlock until late, before going to bed. 

_Hey. Did you want to meet Saturday or Sunday? -JW_

Sherlock was surprised he hadn't heard from John yet, but greatly relieved when a text came through. He frowned a little when he read it, though. He didn't like the 'hey' business and, if he were honest, he didn't like the 'or' bit either. Why couldn't they do both? Was John going to be making a date with someone else for the other night?  
  
 _I'm free all weekend. Whatever works for you. SH_

Sherlock stared at the message. It wasn't untrue, but it wasn't what he really wanted to say. He hit send.

_How about Saturday? Did you want to get dinner? -JW_

_Yes. You pick a place. I can treat since you got dinner last night. SH_

_Okay. Do you like Italian? -JW_

_Sure. Do you know Angelo's? Do you want to meet there? SH_

_I've heard of it, I am sure I can find it. Does seven sound good? -JW_

John felt his stomach flip excitedly at the thought of another date. He really liked Sherlock -- he realised that he wished he was with Sherlock again, even if they weren't doing anything. He felt guilty for being angry before, and even though Sherlock hadn't known, he felt an odd desire to apologise. 

_Yes. Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow. SH_

_Did you have a good day after I left? -JW_

_Just did some work around here. Was class okay? SH_

_Bit boring, really. I had dinner with Greg. -JW_

Who was this Greg? Is this the person who John was going out with on Sunday night? If so, why was John rubbing Sherlock's face in it? He stared at the message for a moment.

_Who is Greg? SH_

_My friend from the party. Turns out the girl he met is your friend Molly. Small world, huh? -JW_

_I see. Is he nice? Molly needs someone nice. SH_

_Yeah, he is. It sounds like it's going well. -JW_

_Good. Have you told Greg about me? SH_

_I have. I was hanging out with him and he asked about the scarf. -JW_

_Do you think he's told Molly it's going well with us? SH_

Sherlock immediately regretted sending that, but it was too late.

_I haven't asked him so I don't know what he thinks. -JW_

John realised after sending it that he could have said he himself thought it was going well, but he didn't know where it was going.

Hmm . . . Sherlock wasn't sure whether or not to believe John's text. And if it were true, he wondered why John wouldn't ask his friend when clearly they were talking about dating and relationships and all. But he didn't want to hear anything else that might be confusing.

_I think I'm going to go to bed now. SH_

_Okay. Good night, Sherlock. -JW_

John wondered when would have happened if he'd been honest about Greg's doubts, or even his own. He also wondered what might have happened had John said he thought it was going excellently. Would Sherlock have agreed with him or would it have sped up the fact that Sherlock needed to end this before it got too far? The scary part was that John was really falling hard for him. He kept trying to remind himself that it had only been a week, but it felt like so much longer. He also tried to remind himself that basically nothing had happened between them, and he didn't have enough information to be feeling this way. He punched his pillow into a more comfortable state and flopped down on it, trying to fall asleep quickly. 

Sherlock felt a bit funny about things. He wondered if it was a good type of funny -- because it was new and unusual -- but he wasn't entirely convinced. When they'd been lying together this morning, something new and unusual, he hadn't felt like this. But he didn't want to worry. He tried hard not to worry. It took forever for him to fall asleep but eventually he did, waking up only a few hours later. He continued this for most of the night and even well into the morning. He dragged himself out of bed around noon and did his best to get on with the day.


	7. A Date

It had taken John so long to fall asleep that he slept late into the day. He woke up to an invite out with Greg but he denied it, telling him about the date he had with Sherlock. 

_Again? -GL_

_Yeah, we talked about it when I went to his place yesterday. -JW_

_You mean when you studied and then stared at each other all night? -GL_

_There's nothing wrong with taking things slow. -JW_

_But there is with not moving forward at all. I haven't had sex with Molly yet but we've at least snogged. -GL_

_I have to get ready. -JW_

John tossed his phone on the sofa without waiting for a reply. He made himself a light breakfast and then went out for a run, hoping that it would help clear his head a bit. Wasn't dating moving forward? _Not if that's the only thing you do over and over._ He sighed and ran faster, trying to get away from all of these thoughts in his head. He would simply ask Sherlock tonight where he saw this relationship going. He made his way back home and showered, picking out his clothes carefully before leaving for the date. He made it to the restaurant at ten to seven, walking in and finding a table by the window. 

By six thirty, Sherlock had taken a shower and got dressed. He tidied up the place -- just in case, he told himself -- and headed out to Angelo's.

Sherlock saw John at the table in the window and realised he felt a huge sense of relief. It was stupid -- of course, John'd be there -- but he felt it all the same. He smiled at him through the glass and went it and sat down.

"Your day go okay?" he asked, because he didn't know what else to say.

John nodded. "I slept through most of it but . . ." He grinned now. "But then I remembered how you feel about lazy people so I went for a run to make up for it." He was very glad to see Sherlock; even though it had only been a day, it felt like it had been much longer. 

Sherlock smiled. He reached over and touched John's hand lightly before picking up a menu and flicking through it. "Everything's good here," he added.

John looked at his hand when Sherlock touched it, biting his lip. "Um, I wanted to ask you . . . how do you think this is going?"

"Um," Sherlock glanced around awkwardly. "You mean dinner? It's . . . um, fine so far."

"No, not dinner. I mean us. I meant how do you think it's going with us," John clarified, half wishing he hasn't brought it up now.

"Good, fine, I mean. I like it . . . don't you like it? Did Graham say it was going bad? Were you lying yesterday? D-do you not want to see me anymore?" Sherlock stumbled a bit over his words.

"Graham? Who? You mean Greg?" John asked, setting the menu down. He figured it would be best to leave Greg out of it since, truthfully, John felt the same way Greg did. "No. I just wondered. I can't tell how you feel about me because we've not done anything…I mean, we don't even kiss and our only 'date' has been studying." He looked down and picked at the laminated corner of his menu. "I know this is new for us and I don't mind moving slowly but . . . it feels like we're not going anywhere and I'm scared because I like you so much and I'm afraid you're going to get bored with me and leave."

"What do you mean we've not done anything? We were touching all night on Thursday. Didn't you like that?" He lowered his voice when the server came over. He ordered his food and waited for John to order. When the server left, he added, "I did. Liked it, I mean…"

"I know we did -- I liked that too but . . . I don't know. I mean, I've slept in your bed and we haven't even kissed. You won't kiss me," John said, remembering how Sherlock had got up and moved across the room. "I-is it me?" He asked quietly.

Sherlock looked up at John. He swallowed. "I'm confused, John. Haven't we kissed? I'm sure we've kissed. I know I've kissed you . . . I don't forget things like that."

"The back of my neck and my hand," John reminded him. "That first night I tried to kiss you and you got up and left the room. Then kind of made me go home." John looked down again and shrugged. "Like I said, I don't mind going slow as long as we're going somewhere. It's just -- I'm starting to like you a lot and I don't want either of us to get hurt."

Sherlock closed his eyes slowly and tried to remember. He opened them up and looked over. "Can we talk more about this after dinner?" he asked. "I'm sorry -- I'm not good at this kind of stuff and it's even harder here. I want to try to explain . . . but not here." He smiled lightly. "Let's enjoy dinner and then maybe we could take a walk or something and talk more about this kind of stuff, okay?"

John looked around the nearly deserted restaurant but nodded, taking sips from his glass of water. Before John brought this up, Sherlock had seemed so happy, almost carefree as if there was no problem. Their food came then so John properly dropped it, eating his lasagna slowly.

Sherlock started to eat his spaghetti when Angelo came out to say hello.  
  
"Angelo, this is my date, John Watson," Sherlock said, smiling.

Angelo smiled at John. "A date? Sherlock Holmes? This is unusual. I'll tell you what -- we've got an extra nice dessert back there. When you finish, I'll bring some out. My treat. For you and your special date," he smiled again.

Sherlock said, "Thank you, Angelo." When he was gone, he said to John. "I come here a lot -- but always on my own. Sorry, if that was embarrassing." He tried to decide if it had embarrassed him, but he couldn't actually tell if it had.

John shook his head. "I wasn't embarrassed, and you shouldn't be. He seems nice. It's good to have a usual place you can go to," he smiled softly. 

"Good," Sherlock said. "And you can have my dessert -- he always serves too much food for me anyway." He smiled again.

"Oh no, I'm sure mine will be fine. We can take it for later," John said.

Sherlock pushed his fork around his plate; he had eaten all he was going to eat but didn't want John to feel rushed. "You look handsome by the way," he said, still staring at his food.

John flushed and smiled. "You do, too." He finished his meal and pushed the plate back. "I'm a bit too full for dessert."

"We'll just take it and tell him we'll eat it at home," Sherlock said. "I suppose it's rarely a good idea to refuse free food." He smiled. Angelo came over with the desserts already boxed up. Sherlock thanked him. He paid and then he and John left the restaurant.

"Shall we take a walk? Do we want to have a destination or just walk?" Sherlock asked.

"We can just walk and see where we end up," John said. 

They walked along quietly for a few minutes until finally Sherlock said, "Are you telling me you really don't know how I feel about you?"

"I wouldn't say it like that exactly. I know that you like me but I just feel like . . .well, you're testing me out and you don't want to get too involved in case you have to dump me. And I know that's normal for relationships but . . . I guess it scares me because I've already decided that I want to be with you."

"I know things are new and we're just getting to know each other, but please believe me -- and talk to Molly if you don't -- I would not invite you over, let alone to stay, if I didn't like you," Sherlock said. "You are literally the first person I've ever had in my room." He looked forward down the road. "I don't understand why it's not obvious…"

"Because . . . it's friend stuff. I sleep over at Greg's all the time. Or I used to. Friends get together to study. I tried to kiss you and you all but ran off," John said quietly. 

"Hold on," Sherlock said. "When you slept at his, did you do all the things we did? I know I'm being nosy, but I am curious."

"Just shared a bed. Not the massaging or the touching. I guess when you asked me to stay the night, my brain already decided what would happen and when it didn't I was confused."

"What had your brain decided would happen?" Sherlock said, a little anxious about the answer.

John felt his cheeks warm. "I thought we were going to have sex," he said quietly.

"Hmm . . . is that what you wanted to happen?" Sherlock said.

John nodded. "I mean, I thought you wanted to and the thought didn't turn me off."

"Not being turned off isn't the same as wanting to," Sherlock pointed out. "If that's what you wanted, why didn't you say?"

"Well, I tried to kiss you and you ran away from me," John pointed out again, but this time he smiled softly. "In truth, I wanted to stay the night with you more than I wanted to have sex."

"I see," Sherlock said. "I can't quite remember this 'running away' business."

"The first night we watched telly. I kissed your head and then your temple and I tried to dip down to get your mouth and you got up really fast and stood in the kitchen making tea."  
  
Sherlock kind of remembered that. "Well . . ." He wasn't quite what explanation would be most appropriate at this point, so he opted for the truth. "The thing is . . . well, I mean, there's lots of different reasons two people might kiss. Not all of those reasons, in my opinion, _deserve_ kisses. I suppose I just wanted to be sure we had good reasons."

"And liking each other isn't a good enough reason?" John grinned.

"Well, smarty pants, the word 'like' has multiple meanings, doesn't it?" Sherlock said. "I wanted to make sure we wanted to kiss each other for the right reasons. Why did you want to?"

"Well, I like you a lot. And I was feeling very sweet on you when we were cuddling. And you have the loveliest lips I've ever seen." John faced him and smiled.

Sherlock smiled a little. "Well, those seem like pretty legitimate reasons. You're sure you aren't being influenced by the fact that a male person has expressed interest in you? Are you sure you're not temporarily blinded by the flattery?"

John shrugged. "Well, either way I really, really want to kiss you," he said. "I don't understand why it matters."

Sherlock grabbed John's hand and pulled him over to a nearby bench. He sat them down, keeping hold of John's hand. "John, it _does_ matter," he said quietly. "I know what it's like to want and be wanted for the wrong reasons. If you want that experience, you're welcome to it, but it won't be with me. It _has_ to be for the right reasons with me and you."

John bit his lip, wondering what Sherlock meant exactly. "Sherlock, I just like you so much. I do. I don't know what else to say."

Sherlock leaned over and kissed John soft and long on the mouth. "Good," he said, when he pulled back. "I like you, too. Very much."

John hummed into the kiss, pleasantly surprised. When Sherlock pulled away, John smiled widely. "Good. That's good."


	8. Back To Sherlock's Again

"Do you want to walk back to mine for a cup of tea?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah, I would. And I think I might have my dessert now," he smiled.

Sherlock led them back. He went in and put on the kettle. "Make yourself comfortable," he said, smiling.

John climbed into Sherlock's bed while he waited, eating carefully from his box.

"The bed?" Sherlock said. "Really? Are you planning on filling it with crumbs?" He poured two cups of tea and carried them over. 

"You said to get comfortable -- were you lying? And I'm very careful," he added, smearing a bit on his cheek and grinning. 

"Lazy and piggish? Hmm . . .I'm not sure this is going to work after all," Sherlock said, smiling.

"Not lazy -- I told you I went for a run," John reminded him. He swiped the chocolate from his cheek with his finger and licked it off, grinning.

Sherlock stood awkwardly by the bed. "I'll just wait here then -- to give you and your chocolate a little privacy while you're getting so intimate." He lifted his hand to cover his eyes.

John rolled his eyes and grinned, reaching out to swipe a bit of chocolate on Sherlock's hand.

"Oi, watch it!" Sherlock said, flopping down on the bed. "Let's cuddle again, like the other night. Please."

John closed the box and leaned over Sherlock to put it on the nightstand, grabbing a couple tissues to clean his face up. Then he lay down and opened his arms a bit for Sherlock. "Yes, please."

"This time you spoon me," Sherlock said, turning away from him but pushing his back up against John.

"Okay," John said. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and pressed his forehead into Sherlock's back. "You smell good," he murmured.

"Thanks," Sherlock said. He lifted one of John's hands to his nose and sniffed loudly. "You smell like chocolate," he said.

John grinned. "Do you like chocolate?"

"Not really," Sherlock said, sliding himself around to face John. "But don't break up with me over it -- it's actually a good thing because it means you can always have mine." He smiled.

"No way I'm leaving you now, if there's extra chocolate involved," John smiled. Being this close to Sherlock really drove home the fact that he was so incredibly handsome. John couldn't stop staring.

Sherlock looked into John's eyes. "Just so we are clearer this evening . . . could I ask what you are expecting to happen?"

John shook his head. "Nothing. I just want to be with you, Sherlock, and I don't want to ever leave."

Sherlock slid his arm around John's back. "I am not normally a fan of sweetness, I confess, but you, John Watson, are very sweet indeed." He pressed his head against John's chest and tangled their legs a little.

"Could it be that you're confused by my new chocolate exterior?" John asked quietly, shifting to settle against Sherlock comfortably.

"Take off your shirt," Sherlock said, ignoring John's question.

John's smile softened a bit as he pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it onto the ground. "You too please," he murmured.

Sherlock unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off. He moved closer to John, pressing their chests together. His arms slid around John's body, and he pressed soft kisses on the top of John's shoulder.

John moaned softly, wrapping his arm around Sherlock. "This is better," he murmured.

"Agreed," Sherlock said softly. "Should we do some of that kissing now?"

"Yes please," he murmured, moving to find Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock pressed in a long, soft kiss as his hands moved up to John's head. He tipped it to deepen the kiss.

John moaned loudly, pushing his tongue into Sherlock's mouth.

Sherlock tasted John's tongue. His hands moved down John's back and pulled his body even closer.

John moved to climb over to get on top of him, rolling his hips lightly.

Sherlock liked the weight of John's body on his. He pressed his hips to meet John's. He felt his pulse and breathing change -- it all felt good.

"Can we . . . can we take more off?" John murmured. 

"I want to -- for the right reasons," Sherlock said. "But I need to know you're sure."

John nodded, kissing him softly. "I'm nervous . . . but I want to."

Sherlock held John's cheeks. "All we're doing right now is taking our clothes off. Don't be nervous." He smiled and put a kiss on his mouth, before wiggling a little to the side and undoing John's belt.

John nodded, moving his hands to Sherlock's button on his jeans. "Right. Sorry," he smiled. He opened them, trying to slide them down.

Sherlock started to take off his trousers. "Don't apologise, John. Remember, everything's fine." Once his clothes were off, he pulled back the covers and slid under them.

John kicked his own trousers off, lying beside Sherlock in his pants.

"Clothes off, John," Sherlock said, letting John look if he wanted to. He smiled cheekily. "Everything, please."

John peeled his pants, keeping his eyes on Sherlock.

"You're very fit," Sherlock said softly. "I've never seen an athlete naked before. Well, certainly not one in my bed."

John smiled wider, tossing his pants on the ground. "You look so handsome."

Sherlock pulled John towards him and kissed his mouth before moving down and sucking softly on his neck.

A small sound escaped his throat -- Sherlock's mouth felt incredible.  John's hand slid down and grazed over Sherlock's cock -- familiar but so very, very different. He wrapped his fingers around, stroking slowly.

"John," Sherlock exhaled. He closed his eyes for a moment and let his head dip. It felt so good to be touched by John like this. He looked up and kissed John's mouth again. "It feels good," he said to him.

John smiled softly, loving the sounds Sherlock was making just with his hand.

Sherlock slid his hand down John's body and touched his cock, moving his fingertips lightly up and down it before eventually gripping it and starting to stroke. This felt almost as good as what John was doing. All of this seemed so new and so nice.

"Oh," John breathed out, pushing into his hand. It felt incredible and he greedily wanted more.

Sherlock pushed John a little away so he could move himself lower on the bed. He kept stroking John, but dipped his mouth to his chest, licking and sucking each of his nipples.

"Sherlock, oh God," John moaned softly, arching a bit as he laced his fingers into Sherlock's hair. 

Sherlock found John's reactions so sexy. He shifted to be able to press himself against John's legs as he slid a little further down the bed. He covered John's stomach with kisses and then trailed his tongue over to John's hips. 

John bit his lip and sat up a bit, watching Sherlock move lower. John pet his hair, murmuring softly about how lovely he was.

Sherlock dropped even lower, using his hand to tip John's cock towards his mouth. He licked it first -- short, quick licks across the top and the long ones up the length. He parted his lips and slipped it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around, making it warm and wet.

John's head fell back with a soft groan, trying not to buck up into his mouth. It was so good -- Sherlock's warm mouth moving over him.

Sherlock shifted his body again, pulling one of John's legs a little closer so he could press his own hard cock against it. He kept John covered with his mouth, taking him in and slowly sucking him as he moved his mouth back up to the tip before swallowing him down again.

John fell flat against the mattress, writhing lightly underneath him. "I'm close . . . Sherlock . . . it's too good," he moaned softly. 

"It doesn't matter, John," Sherlock said softly, moving to put kisses on John's lower belly. "Do what you feel . . . show me," he said as he moved back to John's cock. His free hand squeezed John's thigh.

John closed his eyes and focused on his movement, on everything he was feeling. It wasn't long before he came, his hips lifting off of the bed as he moaned for Sherlock.

"God," Sherlock called after John came. "God, John," he said, moving up and kissing John's neck and he reached down and quickly stroked himself until he came. "God, John, god," he just called over and over. 

John turned to watch him, murmuring his name as he watched him come. He was so beautiful. 

Sherlock panted against John's chest, staying quiet until he got his breath under control. Then he lifted his head and looked up at John. "Are you okay? Was that okay?" he asked quietly.

John nodded.  "It was fantastic. I wanted to return the favor."

"I couldn't wait," Sherlock said. "I hope the offer will stay for another time." He cuddled against John. "Are you all right . . . you know, because . . . I'm a guy?"

"I'm fine," John murmured, kissing his mouth softly. "Sherlock, it was great."

"Good, John," he said softly back. "Because it was for the right reasons . . ." He squeezed John even closer to him, resting his head against John's arm. 

John smiled, kissing his temple lightly. "I really like being with you -- studying, watching telly, this."

"I like all those things, too," Sherlock said. "I didn't think I'd find someone like you, but I'm difficult sometimes and you've got to be honest about what you want or don't want, okay? Don't just say okay either -- mean it."

"I won't lie to you, Sherlock. I promise. We have to be honest."

Sherlock put his head down on the pillow, lying flat now but with one arm still around John. "I don't mean lying really -- in just this last week, it's been easy to see you're not a liar. I mean…you have to tell me things -- don't wonder or worry without speaking to me." He closed his eyes for a minute. "And I'll have to do the same with you," he said, more to convince himself than to convince John.

John smiled softly and kissed his cheek. "Yeah, I promise I will tell you things like that, okay?"

"Good," Sherlock said. "I want it to always be good. I know it may not be, but I want to try." He rolled over on his side and leaned up on his elbow. "Has this been a better date than just studying?"

John grinned. "They both have their good parts."

"Are you going to tell your friend?" Sherlock asked.

"About this?" John asked.

"Yeah," Sherlock said. "I mean, are you going to tell him things are going well between us?" He fiddled a bit with John's hair.

John nodded. "I'm going to tell him things are excellent and that my new boyfriend is excellent and we can go on that double date whenever he wants so I can show you off," he grinned, leaning to peck a kiss on his lips.

"Am I your boyfriend?" Sherlock said. "I've never been anyone's boyfriend." 

"I would like you to be," John said, meeting his gaze. "Do you want to be?"

"What specifically does the role require?" Sherlock said. "Besides more of this, I presume," he added, given John a quick kiss.

John shrugged. "Dates. And my affection." He grinned, petting Sherlock's hair.

"Surely there must be something else -- otherwise, there'd be a queue of people lining up for the job. What's the downside?"

John thought about it. "Um, I don't know. Sometimes people don't mesh well together -- jealousy, fighting, stuff like that, I guess." He looked up at Sherlock.  "It might take a little bit of work."

 "I imagine I'll be a jealous boyfriend," Sherlock said, turning his head to the side. "I get like that . . . intense, I suppose . . . I don't want to ruin everything. I'm trying to be honest. I thought you might be going out on another date this weekend and I got . . . very bothered by the thought. I'm sorry."

"Did you? I'm sorry you thought that," John said. He turned on his own back and stared up at the ceiling, drumming his fingers on his belly

"Perhaps we could agree not to go out on dates with anyone else," Sherlock said quietly. "This would be quite easy for me as I've never been on a date before you, but is that something you could agree to? What about girls -- what if a pretty one were to ask you out, would you say no?"

"Well, that agreement is basically what being in a relationship means. I would say no because I am a happily taken man. Girl or boy, Sherlock," he looked over at him and smiled. 

"Well, that's a perk I had not considered," Sherlock said. He smiled at John. "Are you spending the night, please?"

John smiled wider and nodded. "Yes, I would really like to."

"Good," Sherlock said. He lay back flat on the bed again. "Now that I know you're staying, can you guess what I'm looking forward to most about sleeping beside you?"

"Waking up beside me?" he said, turning onto his side instead. 

"No," Sherlock said, pulling a face as if that was nothing special. "A cup of tea being delivered to the bed in the morning."

John snorted a laugh and dramatically turned away from him. "Did you forget I'm lazy?"

"No, you're not," Sherlock said, laughing a little and pulling John back round. "Are you tired now? Do you want to go to sleep?"

"Not exactly, but if I got comfortable I could fall asleep," he smiled. "Are you tired? Do you want to sleep?"

"No, I don't," Sherlock answered.

"And what would you like to do?" John asked. "Tea? Don't make me go get tea!"

"No, you make the tea in the morning. Any other time, I'll make it myself," Sherlock said. "I'd like to do more boyfriend-based activities now."

John bit his lip to stop himself from grinning. "Hmm. I'm a bit too full to go out for a dinner date," he said, pretending to be clueless. 

Sherlock smiled. "Oh, okay . . . I'll go out by myself then." But he didn't get up. Instead, he slipped one hand over the covers and set it on John's hip. Then he slid closer and started to suck lightly on John's earlobe.

John made a small sound, wishing he'd been able to hold his resolve. "Food's not the only thing I can put in my mouth, you know," he murmured. 

Sherlock muffled a little laugh as he sat up, smiling down at John's face. "Look me in the eye when you say that," he said. "That kind of line doesn't really sound like you, John."

John felt a spike of defiance, wanting to prove him wrong. He met Sherlock's gaze and said, "I want to suck your cock." Immediately his face flushed and he hid in the pillow, laughing at himself. 

Sherlock squeezed around John. "Is that the first time you've ever said that sentence aloud?" he asked, stroking John's arm lightly.

"Yes," John said into the pillow, turning his head to peek out at Sherlock.  

"Well, then it'd be cruel of me not to give you what you want," Sherlock said softly, now kissing John's shoulders and trailing his tongue up the back of his neck.

John moved and shifted them and so that he was on top of Sherlock, kissing his mouth hard. Then he moved down, kissing and sucking at his neck. "That's very wise because I really, really want to." 

"Only if you mean it," Sherlock said softly, resting his hand on John's shoulder and then dropping to his own stomach.

John licked one of Sherlock's nipples, kissing his way to the other one and sucking softly. He moved lower, over his belly as he held his hand. 

Sherlock smiled and squeezed John's hand. "It feels good," he said. He wiggled his legs a little to help John get comfortable. 

John smiled, licking a long stripe up his cock and swirling around the head. 

Sherlock let out a small moan of pleasure. He lifted his head to look down at John. It was sexy watching him move between his legs. "God," he said, "that feels incredible."

John smiled and took in more, slowly bobbing around him. It was different, but he liked it because the sounds Sherlock was making were worth it. 

"John," Sherlock whispered. "It's making me really, really . . . excited. Just so you know."

John hummed around him, bobbing a bit faster now as he rubbed his thighs. 

Sherlock reached down and grabbed John's shoulder. "John," he said quickly, "I'm going to come if you keep doing that."

John pulled off, still using his hand. "Don't you want to?" he asked.

Sherlock smiled. "I do want to," he said. "I just wanted to let you know…please don't stop."

John nodded. "What will it feel like -- in my mouth, I mean?" he asked, stroking a bit slower now to give himself some time. 

"Well, you've already seen what I'm like -- it'll just be like that. It's not scary, you can pull away if you want to. You don't have to -- honestly, whatever you want. But don't stop doing . . . something." He smiled goofily.

John raised his brows, smiled, and guided Sherlock back into his mouth. He bobbed quickly, staying closer to the head as he got ready.

"Yes, John, that feels so good…if you've never done this before you, you have a natural gift," Sherlock said, flopping back on the bed. He closed his eyes and dropped his hand back down to touch John in some way. "I'm close, John…" he said, "…close." His hips moved just a little and he started to feel the tension fill his body. "I'm…" he said, jerking slightly as he came.

John could feel it --Sherlock's hips started moving a bit more erratically and he was getting harder and suddenly he felt it. Sherlock was coming into his mouth and he pulled back in surprise.

Sherlock took a deep breath as he gathered himself. Then he pushed himself up on his elbows. "Was that okay? Are you okay?" he said, worried a little about John getting grossed or freaked out.

John nodded, self consciously wiping at his face before looking up. "It surprised me but it wasn't bad," he said.

"I'm glad," Sherlock said, trying to pull John up to him. "I can assure you, from my point of view, it was pretty much perfect."

John smiled wider. "Good. I'm glad to hear that, even if you're just trying to make me feel better."

"Um, don't be a fool -- I'm pretty sure you've got the evidence of my satisfaction dribbling from your chin," Sherlock said, squeezing his arms around John as if to get as close as physically possible to him. 

"It's not!" John whined softly, bringing his hand up to wipe again.

"I'm just teasing you," Sherlock said. He cuddled against him. "Thank you, John," he said softly, stroking his skin with his fingertips.

John huffed softly but smiled and curled close. "Any time," he murmured.

Sherlock closed his eyes a little and relaxed against John's embrace. They lay there quietly for a few minutes and Sherlock wondered if John was falling asleep. "Have you ever been in love, John?" he whispered.

John felt his whole body warm with the question, closing his eyes. "Never before." He was whispering as well -- it felt more appropriate. 

"Me neither," Sherlock said. "It's hard to know -- I mean, since I've never felt it before. I wish, I wish I knew . . . I don't understand feelings very well."

"Do you think you might be now?" John asked softly. "Because I think I do. I think if we're even considering it, we must feel something very strong," he continued quietly. 

"Well," Sherlock said. "Whatever I feel about you, I can tell you, I have never felt it about anyone else. So either it's love or perhaps . . . it's an allergy of some sort." He smiled and squeezed John.

John smiled. "Well, I'm allergic to you, too."

"I hope it's love. I hope I love you, John," Sherlock said.

"I hope so too, Sherlock. I love you too," he said quietly.

"Are you worried at all about that?"

"I'm a bit nervous," John admitted.

"Me too," Sherlock said. "Though you were just nervous about giving a blowjob and you did a bang-up job on that," he added, leaning over and kissing John's head.

John grinned. "It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be," he murmured.

"I hope that's the case with the love business as well," Sherlock said. He yawned a little. "I'm sleepy now a bit."

"Me too," John said. "I really like sleeping here with you."

"Do you think we'll ever sleep in your room?" Sherlock asked, snuggling down a bit.

"Sure," John said.

"John," Sherlock said, turning him so Sherlock could spoon him. "I feel like I want to be with you all the time. Is that worrying? Should I be worried? Does it worry you?"

John shook his head. "I want to be with you all the time, too. I wish we could room together. . . "

"Well, you can stay here as long as you want. Tea and blowjobs -- why would I send you away?" He squeezed him again. He hoped John didn't mind the continual squeezing, but it was just that he wanted to be closer, closer, all the time.

John shifted and tried to press right against Sherlock. "It sounds excellent. I should move in," he said.

"But that would involve you getting out of the bed and I don't want you to do that," Sherlock said, putting little kisses on John's shoulder. "We're in quite a predicament."

John smiled. "We could fix the predicament by my sleeping right here."

"I'm trying to sleep but you keep rabbiting on about being nervous about love," Sherlock said, laughing at himself.

"Shhh, I'm sleeping," John grinned.

"Can I kiss you while you're asleep?" Sherlock asked. His voice sounded really sleepy, but for some reason, he couldn't seem to stop talking.

"Sure. But how will I enjoy it?" John asked.

"I'll just have to do extra well," Sherlock said.

"Make it get into my dream . . ." John's mouth twitched in a smile as he was dozing off.

"I'll try," Sherlock said. "Good night, John." 

"Night," John murmured, letting sleep finally take him.


	9. Making A Double Date

Much to Sherlock's surprise, he didn't wake up at all during the night. When he opened his eyes, he could tell me the light through the curtains that it was properly morning. He looked over at John who was still sleeping. He leaned over and kissed his mouth softly.

"Hmm," John hummed softly, shifting a bit. He felt sleepy but happy, keeping his eyes closed to hold onto the feeling.

"Did you dream of me?"

"Mmm," John murmured, opening his eyes slowly and smiling. "Did you?"

"Obviously," Sherlock said, pulling John's hand under the covers to his morning erection.

"Oh. You did," he smiled, stroking softly. "What did you see?"

"Just sex stuff," Sherlock said. "Actually, I don't remember. Keep doing that, please." He nuzzled John's neck.

"Sounds sexy," John teased. "I saw my mouth on you again…remember that?"

Sherlock smiled. "Of course," he whispered, closing his eyes. "I'll never forget."

"I could practice more and get better at it," John said. He gripped a bit harder, keeping his movement slow.

"I'm happy to help you practice," Sherlock said. He reached over and held John's cock in his hand. He kissed John's neck again, this time sucking on his skin.

"That's good, Sherlock," John moaned softly, tilting his head a bit.

Sherlock made a satisfied noise and started stroking John, matching their rhythms. "This is a nice way to wake up," he said softly, "but it doesn't get you out of making the tea, you know." He smiled against John's neck.

John chuckled softly. "I better make this good so you fall asleep again."

"You're making it very good," Sherlock said. His hips started to rock a little as their hands sped up. "John," he said softly.

"Then I'll make it better than good," he murmured, swiping his thumb over the tip to make it faster.

"Mmmm," Sherlock hummed, as he felt the warmth starting to fill his body. "Do you like it like this?" he asked softly. "Tell me if you want me to do something different."

"Just a little harder, okay?" John asked quietly, pushing into his hand lightly. "You feel so good, Sherlock."

Sherlock tightened his grip a little. "John," Sherlock huffed, "I'm close . . ."

"A little longer . . . just a bit more," John said, panting softly as he stroked Sherlock. He closed his eyes and thought about Sherlock's hand, and then his mouth, and then what else they could do. 

Sherlock pressed his mouth against John's neck, biting the skin softly. He rocked into John's hand, trying hard to hold on. "God," he moaned. Sherlock let his breath go and he immediately came into John's hand, panting against him. He did his best to keep his hand moving as he called John's name over and over.

John jerked slightly as his own orgasm coursed through him.

Sherlock smiled, still panting lightly. He lifted his head and kissed John's mouth. "Good morning, John," he said. “Let's get up and start the day."

John grinned. "What a lovely way to wake up," he said.

"Indeed," Sherlock said, stretching a bit in the bed before getting up. He put on his pants and a t-shirt and tossed his dressing gown over to John. "I'm going to take a quick shower . . . um, don't you have some tea to make while I do?" he said, smiling cheekily.

John rolled his eyes. "Take a tea bag in the shower with you and let it drip into your mouth," he smiled.

"Disgusting, John," Sherlock called as he rushed into the bathroom. He showered and slipped into some clean clothes. When he came back out, he smiled at the cup of tea. "Do you want to do something today or have you got plans?" he asked.

"I actually wanted to ask Greg about the double date -- would you like to go with them?" John asked.

Sherlock wasn't entirely convinced -- he'd only just had his first date ever this week and a double one seemed like it might be pushing his luck -- but he wanted to make John happy and at least he knew Molly was tolerable. "All right," Sherlock said. "I'll try."  
  
John called Greg so it would be faster. "Hey! Do you still want to do the double date?"

"With who? Sherlock?"

"Yeah and you and Molly," he said.

"So you talked to him again?"

"Yeah, I'm here now." He had almost said it was worked out, but he knew Sherlock could hear him and he didn't want him to know how worried he'd been.

"Uh, sure. Our usual place?"

"Yeah, we'll see you at seven." He hung up and smiled at Sherlock.

"Do you need me to be . . . different?" Sherlock asked more nervously than he wished it had sounded. "More like the people at the party?"

"No way! I just want you to be you," John said.

Sherlock smiled, still a bit nervous about it. He knew Molly liked him, but it seemed that Greg needed to like him, too. But Greg was the kind of person who found Sherlock obnoxious (and, to be fair, the feeling was usually mutual). "What do you want to do until dinner?" he asked, changing the focus a bit.

"Want to watch a film? Do you have more homework?" John asked.

"We can watch a film," Sherlock said. "I don't have any work. You can pick one again. Do you want a snack or anything?"

"Hmm, do you have biscuits?" John smiled. 

"Just the stale ones," Sherlock said. "I might have some fruit or I could nip and get something if you want." 

"Fruit sounds good," John said.

Sherlock brought over a couple bananas and apples. He got his laptop and sat down on the sofa, waiting for John to choose a film. He was looking forward to a bit of snuggling.

John put the film on and pulled Sherlock closer. When it was finished he checked the time and stretched. "I want to take a shower and change -- do you want to come to mine or should I pick you up?"

In truth, Sherlock didn't really want John to be away from him for a single minute, but he thought maybe it'd be wiser if John went on his own so he didn't start getting sick of Sherlock. "I'll stay here, if that's okay -- I'll just get things organised for the week. I usually do that on Sunday evenings so I'll get that sorted before dinner, okay? Will you come back or should we meet there? Actually, could you come back so we can go together?"

"I want to go together! Of course I am going to come here first," John smiled.  He stood and stretched again, bending down for a kiss. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay," Sherlock said. He watched John leave and then got up and tidied the room a bit. He sat down at his desk and got organised, but he was done much sooner than he'd hoped to be. He got a book and lay down on the sofa, trying to stay focused on something else so he wouldn't get himself any more nervous about the double date.

John went straight into the shower when he got to his dorm, taking his time to pick out his outfit.

_I miss you already. -JW_

_And I don't know what to wear. -JW_

Sherlock reached for his phone, but smiled at the first message. The second made him a little nervous, though -- he hadn't planned on wearing anything special. He took a deep breath and tried to make himself relax.

_Wear whatever you want. You always look handsome. And I miss you too. SH_

_Does that mean I can wear my chicken suit? -JW_

_Please tell me you are joking. SH_

_Well now I am. Of course. Sure. -JW_

John grinned and hoped the joking would help them both relax.

_I'm not incredibly hungry but I'm looking forward to dinner. SH_

_Me too. But I am hungry. -JW_

_I'm going to go get dressed. I'll see you soon. SH_

_I'll head over within the hour. -JW_

Sherlock picked out some clean clothes. He decided not to fuss too much -- to be fair, most of his clothes all pretty much looked the same. Once he was ready, he made himself a cup of tea and sat down to wait for John.

John headed out for Sherlock's, texting Greg on his way to see if they were ready as well. He knocked, grinning as he waited for Sherlock to answer.

Sherlock went to the door, but before opening it, he called, "Who is it?"

"Um, it's naked chicken man," John grinned, making a chicken sound as well.

"Have you come to break up with me?" Sherlock asked from behind the door.

"What? Sherlock, no!" John said, his smile dropping. What had happened?

Sherlock smiled as he opened the door. "Good," he said. "I don't want us to break up." He stepped to the side to let John in. He squeezed his arm as John walked by.

"Why did you think I was? What happened?" John asked as he came inside.

"Nothing happened," Sherlock said, pulling a silly face. "I just wanted to make sure that a few hours away hadn't made you go off me."

"Oh," John said relieved.  "No. It's made me want you even more," he smiled. 

"Don't start being sweet or I'll have to suggest we skip dinner and go to bed instead," Sherlock said. "Let's go. You look handsome, by the way."

"So do you, of course,” John said as they walked out the door.


	10. A Double Date

"Have you met Molly yet?" Sherlock asked. "She said she knew you. She said you were nice. Were you in a class together or something?"

"Maybe -- when I talk to her again I might remember better," he smiled. "You guys are really good friends?"

"Well," Sherlock said. "I mean, as I've said, I don't have friends really, but I guess she's the closest I come to one. I'll be honest," he said glancing over at John. "It crossed my mind that perhaps she had a little bit of a crush on me, but I guess I was wrong."

John smiled. "Maybe not. Maybe she did but she's moving on now. Did she know you were gay?"

"I'm not entirely sure it mattered," Sherlock said. "Perhaps your friend's gay as well. Maybe she only likes guys who like guys."

John grinned. "Greg is definitely not gay," he said.

"I'll be the judge of that," Sherlock said, smiling. "I'm teasing." They got to the restaurant but Sherlock didn't see Molly. "Let's go ahead and get a table," he said, holding the door open for John.

John nodded, following him and sitting down. "Oh look, here they are." He waved to Greg and Molly at the door. 

"Hi Molly," Sherlock said.

"Hi Sherlock," Molly said, smiling widely.

"Do you know John?" he asked.

"Hi John," she said. "We were in a class today last year -- biology. You probably don't remember me."

John smiled. As soon as she started taking he remembered. "Of course. It's good to see you."

"So how's it going?" Greg asked, looking be looking between them.

"Great," John said.

"I was a little surprised you two got together," Molly said. "But I'm glad." She looked over at John. "Did you know Sherlock before the party?"

"I'm right here," Sherlock said. "You can ask me."

Molly blushed a little. "I didn't -- sorry," she stumbled, swallowing awkwardly. "Did you two know each other before the party?"

Sherlock noticed Greg glance at John. "Sorry, Molly," Sherlock said. "I didn't mean to snap at you. We didn't know each other. The first time we met was in that cupboard." He tried to catch her eye and when he did, he gave her a genuine smile. 

John nodded his agreement. "I'm glad it happened now because otherwise I wouldn't have met him."

Greg reached over and took Molly's hand. "Yeah, parties are great for that sort of thing."

"Are you saying you two met that night as well?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah," Molly said. "I'm also glad for that party." She leaned over and gave Greg a quick kiss on the cheek.

Greg caught John's eye and winked. "She's a lot of fun. And smart. She's going to be a coroner."

"Oh cool! I'm going to be a doctor," John smiled.

"And what are you going to be, Greg?" Sherlock asked.

"A detective like my dad," he said proudly.

Molly smiled at Greg. "Well, neither of us will even graduate if we keep missing classes like we did on Friday. You can't tempt me anymore -- we've got to be good."

John flushed lightly and looked at Greg, who was oddly looking at Sherlock. "Well, I just can't help it, I like you so much," he said. "I like to show it."

"Greg!" Molly blushed and gave Greg a little shove. "I'm just saying, my roommate got all freaked out when I didn't come home all night and then wasn't in class. We're lucky she didn't call the police!"

"Especially if they had sent your dad round, eh, Greg?" Sherlock said awkwardly. He picked up his menu and dropped his head a bit as he was studying it.

John cleared his throat softly and tried to tell Greg with his eyes not to say anything about what they had talked about. He had only just looked down at his menu when Greg spoke again.

"Molly, don't be embarrassed. I'm sure these two are probably doing the same stuff -- we've been going out the same amount of time."

John looked up again. Why was Greg saying this stuff?

Molly looked over at Sherlock. "I'm not normally like this, you know. Well, I mean, you _do_ know. I guess he's just different," she said. "I didn't think you were interested in all this, Sherlock."

"What do you mean?" Sherlock said, looking up at her.

"Sex," Molly said. "Well, romance, dating, all that. I've never once heard you talking about dating and now, well, I guess if you two must be as perfect together as Greg and I are."

"I'm proud that he chose me," John smiled, looking over at Sherlock happily.

"What are you ordering?" Sherlock asked, trying to change the subject.

"Just a sandwich, I think. How about you?" John asked.

"Do you like doing relationship stuff now with John?" Greg interrupted.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked. He couldn't tell if the emphasis was on John or now. And what precisely did he mean by 'relationship stuff'?

"I like it just fine," Sherlock said. "Is this homework for your detective class, because I have to say your questioning technique is a bit odd." He tried to make a little laugh but it came out awkwardly.

John smiled and took his hand. "Greg, stop being weird. Molly, are you almost done with school? When do you go to medical school?"

"One more year here," she said, looking over at Sherlock sympathetically. "How about you?"

"One more year as well," John said. He glanced over at Sherlock. "Maybe next year we can room together."

"Maybe," Sherlock said. He looked at the menu again -- trying to act normal, despite feeling so awkward. "I'm just going to get salad, I think," he said 

Greg raised his brows.  "Maybe?"

John looked at him. "I said maybe too."

"Sure. But if you really wanted to, you could. I wish we could," he said to Molly.

"Molly cares too much about her studies," Sherlock said. "Why don't we make a double date a year from today and we'll see what everyone thinks then, okay?"

Greg was about to answer when the waiter came and they all ordered. John gave Greg a stern look.

"So have you two been here before? Have you gone out at all?" John asked as they ate.

Molly laughed in mock offense. "We've not spent all our time in bed, you know! Our first date was to that Thai restaurant a couple streets over. That was one week ago." She turned and looked at Greg. "It seems longer -- I mean, it seems like I've known you forever." She smiled at him.

Greg smiled back and leaned over to kiss her mouth quickly. "It's only been a week for you two as well -- how many dates have you actually been on?" Greg asked.

Sherlock looked down at his plate. Why was this happening? Everything seemed fine when he and John were on their own, but now, in front of Molly and John's friend, he realised that he probably wasn't doing enough. Molly and Greg seemed . . . a bit obnoxiously in love, really, but perhaps that's how he and John should seem? But clearly, if someone were looking over at their table, they'd think John and Sherlock were just friends.

"I've had a lot of work this week," he said rather feebly.

"Sherlock's work is amazing," Molly said. "Nothing's more important to him than his work."  
  
Sherlock looked up. He knew Molly was trying to help, but her comment didn't make him feel any better.

"Oh, I see," Greg smiled, looking over at John.

John shook his head at Greg, getting really angry now. "I've been studying a lot as well. Besides, we're both home bodies, we like staying in."

"And staring at the walls?" Greg muttered.

"Shut up, Greg." John's face flushed, hating to do this here.

Sherlock's stomach twisted. Had John used that phrase to describe being at Sherlock's? "Try to be more creative, Greg," he said, hoping it sounded much more confident than he felt. "There's quite a lot one can do at home that cannot be done in public." 

"Oh, so exactly what are you guys are doing?" Greg asked.

Sherlock didn't know what to say. He looked over at John, a bit helplessly and a bit ashamedly.

John reached over and took his hand, looking at Greg again. "Why are you being such an arse?" he asked. "Who cares what we do when we hang out?"

Greg shrugged. "I mean, where's the line between friends and boyfriends if you're just . . . studying?"

John stood up suddenly, fishing money out and dropping it on the table. "Molly, I'm sorry, it was really nice seeing you. Come on, Sherlock."

Sherlock stood up and smiled at Molly before following John. He didn't know what to say about what had just happened, so he didn't say anything.

"I'm so sorry, Sherlock. God, he is such an arse!" John was walking a bit quickly in his anger, pulling Sherlock along with him. 

"Maybe he's right, John," Sherlock said quietly. "We don't seem like them . . . maybe we should."

"He's not! Wait, What? We should what?" John asked, turning to look at him. "There's nothing wrong with us."

"I don't know…I don't know about any of these things, but he does," Sherlock said. "Maybe I'm not doing it right -- he's causing Molly to miss classes and I'm insisting we do our class work . . ."

"Sherlock, don't -- he was just being an idiot," John said. 

"John," Sherlock said, stopping still on the pavement. "What have you told him about the things we've done?"

John shook his head. "Nothing specific. I told him about how we studied and how I stayed the night. He thought we had sex but I told him he didn't. And then I just told him I was seeing you again over the weekend and then, well, you heard our conversation this morning," he said. 

"Is it wrong that we've not…one everything yet?" Sherlock said. "I just wanted everything to be for the right reasons -- I'm sorry if I've ruined everything."

"Sherlock, no! Nothing is ruined! I want everything to be for the right reasons too and it's okay if it takes us a little longer than them." 

"Is it taking too long?"

John shook his head. "Sherlock, there is no set time limit. It's just whenever we feel comfortable. There's nothing wrong with that." 

Sherlock tried to relax his anxiety a little. He reached over and held John's hand as they continued walking. "Do you think it's a weird kind of homophobia on his part? 'What's the difference between being friends and boyfriends?' Does he just expect us to be shagging the whole time or otherwise it's not 'real'?" he asked.

"I didn't think he would be like that," John said. He thought back to the dinner, noticing even more now the little things he'd done -- kissing Molly, touching her, the comments -- was it some kind of test or something? "I'm sorry, Sherlock."

"I wonder what his issue is," Sherlock said. "But don't pretend it doesn't matter…he's like your best friend. I don't want him to hate me. He and I don't have to be friends but I don't want him to hate me."

"I know but I don't want to see him if he's going to act like that all the time," John said. 

"Maybe you should speak to him on your own first," Sherlock said. He squeezed John's hand. "Let's put that out of our heads now. What do you want to do for the rest of the evening?"

"Want to go back to mine? We can watch a movie or something," John looked over at him. He always suggested the same stuff and he wondered if Sherlock would get bored of him. 

"All right," Sherlock said. "That'd be nice." He looked over and smiled as they continued walking.

At John's, Sherlock waited as John unlocked his door. He walked in, had a quick look around and then flopped onto John's bed. "I feel like if I pull these covers down, the bed will be covered in food and pieces of chocolate," he laughed.

John laughed. "It will not!"

"Come be by me, John Watson," Sherlock said, lying back on the bed and holding a hand out.

John toed his shoes off and joined him on the bed, sitting cross legged beside him.

"I'm sorry the double date didn't go as you expected," Sherlock said, lightly brushing John's leg.

"That's okay, it's not your fault," he said.

"I hope it's not, but nonetheless, I'm sorry it wasn't more fun. I hope you don't hold anything against Molly -- she's really quite sweet," Sherlock said. "Do you want to lie down by me?" he asked softly.

"Yes," John smiled. He scooted down a bit and lay on his side, facing Sherlock.

Sherlock slid his arm around John. "Can I kiss you?" he asked.

John grinned. "Yes, please." He scooted even closer and draped his own arm around Sherlock's waist.

Sherlock leaned in and put a soft kiss on John's mouth. He liked that he recognised the taste of John. He lifted his hand and ran it through John's hair and then smiled softly. "I still like kissing you," he said.

John chuckled. "What a relief. I also like kissing you. More, please."

Sherlock moved a little closer and gave John a long kiss, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth before letting his tongue move in to find John's. His hand moved to John's lower back, pressing it a little.

John hummed softly and returned the kiss, finding Sherlock's tongue with his own and pressing his hips against Sherlock's.

"I like all of this, John," Sherlock said. "I don't want either of us to think this stuff doesn't matter…that it doesn't mean something." He kissed John again.

"I know, Sherlock. I like all of this too. Even the smallest thing feels amazing," John agreed. "I mean it."

"That said," Sherlock whispered. "I also would like to have sex with you. Whenever you're ready, I mean, no matter how long it takes for you to be ready."

John flushed lightly and nodded. "I would like that too, Sherlock.  But . . . not because of what Greg said, okay?"

"Obviously not," Sherlock said. He lay flat on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, but still stroking John's arm. "I didn't even want us to kiss unless it was for the right reason. I don't want your friends to hate me, John, but I would never change my own rules just because of something one said. All of this is just about you and me. I hope."

"You and me," John repeated, facing the ceiling as well. "Did you want to now?" he asked, knowing it was the least romantic thing he'd ever done.

Sherlock rolled back on his side to face John. "I'll be honest with you -- I kind of have wanted to since the night of the party. It was never an issue of not wanting to." He smiled. "But now I know that my reasons are the right ones . . . but that doesn't mean it has to be tonight."

John smiled. "I wanted to since I came over the first time," he admitted. "I still want to now, of course, but I'm nervous."

"It's all right to be nervous," Sherlock said. "I'm nervous, too. Let's kiss again." He leaned in and kissed John, a bit harder than last time. He kept his eyes open for a minute and then closed them, concentrating on how nice it felt.

John matched his kiss, humming softly as they moved. It was good -- he knew he wanted to. And it was the perfect distraction to not think about Greg.  But no, that wasn't fair to Sherlock. He pulled back and buried his face in Sherlock's neck. "I'm sorry . . . I can't stop thinking about everything that happened and I'm worried I'll be distracted and I don't want our first time to be like that." He was rambling, he knew, but he couldn't help it.

Sherlock pulled back as well and lay flat on the bed. "Yes, you're right," he said quietly. "That's not the right reason at all." He turned his head away from John a little -- he didn't want to make John feel bad, but Sherlock was very disappointed. Partly because he had really wanted to do it, but also because he was worried now about the role John's friends would play in their relationship.

"I'm sorry. It just . .  it feels like he decided this and I don't want that to ever happen," John said quietly. He looked up at the back of Sherlock's head guiltily. 

Sherlock rolled back over and put his hand on John's shoulder. "Don't apologise," Sherlock said. "We promised to tell each other things, and I've told you that everything has to be for the right reason. If the reason's not right at the moment, then we shouldn't." He gave John a little kiss and snuggled in against him.

"Next time, okay? I'll-I'll talk to him and sort it out and we can do it next time," John said. 

"Whenever it's right," Sherlock said. He gave him a little squeeze. "What do you want to do now?"

John sighed and looked over at him. "Should I go talk to Greg now?" 

"Do you want to? That's fine," Sherlock sat up. "I'll head home but will you at least text me and let me know how it goes? Don't let him upset you, okay?"

"I want it to be done so that it won't be in the way anymore," John said, sitting up as well. He hated to see Sherlock go but he didn't know what else to do. He wanted to focus on him alone -- to be like they were before the double date. 

Sherlock stood up, reaching out a hand to pull John up as well. He gave him a kiss. "This evening hasn't turned out like we expected, I think, but that's all right," he said honestly. "Text me when you get back so I know everything's okay, yeah?"

John leaned up and kissed his mouth, a long, gentle kiss. "Thank you, Sherlock. I will text you -- maybe I can come by after?"

"We'll see," Sherlock said. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" He leaned over and gave him another kiss before he started off on his walk home.


	11. John Talks To Greg

John picked up his phone.

_We need to talk. -JW_

_Later. -GL_

_Now, please. -JW_

_No. I'm with Molly. -GL_

_I want to talk about what happened at dinner. Meet me at the coffee place. -JW_

John left without waiting for an answer hoping that Greg would show up. He headed for the cafe and grabbed a table, looking around for him. He was playing with his phone when Greg finally walked in, sitting down across from him. "What was that all about?" John asked right away. 

Greg shrugged. "I thought he wasn't interested," he said. 

"Look, he's not just some hook up I met at the party. I like him a lot."

"Yeah, but he doesn't seem interested --"

"Why? Because we're not fucking all the time?" John asked, ignoring Greg's eye roll. "Did it occur to you that he's wanted to since the beginning and I'm nervous because I've never been with a guy before?" 

Greg looked over at him. "No, it didn't," he admitted. 

"Sherlock wanted things done for the right reasons and I was okay with that -- until you got into my head," he said. 

Greg shrugged. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise it was a serious thing already."

"You and Molly are," John pointed out. 

"But we're--" Greg cut off suddenly and looked down at the table. 

John looked at him closely. "Not two boys?" Greg looked up and John raised his brows. "Really, Greg?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean that. I'm sorry." 

"We're just a normal couple, Greg."

"I know. Look, we can plan another date and I promise I will be good."

John agreed to try to forget the whole thing. He treated Greg to a coffee and they talked for a good hour about their usual things before Molly started texting Greg. They left together, splitting when John headed for his own room. He’d stayed with Greg longer than he’d expected, but he was glad that everything was fixed now. He texted Sherlock.

_Everything's fixed now. -JW_

Sherlock had laid down on the bed with his book when he got back to his room. He wasn't quite sure what to think about everything that had happened, so he thought the best bet was to try not thinking at all. He fell asleep after a few pages -- not a deep sleep, but deep enough that he didn't lie there fretting. When he heard his phone, he woke up and reached over for it.

_Good. I'm glad. I hope you feel better about him. And everything really. SH_

_I do. You were right about him being homophobic. Kind of. -JW_

_I hope he'll be all right about us in the future. SH_

_I think he will. He regrets it. He wasn't thinking properly. -JW_

Sherlock looked up at the ceiling. He was glad John and his friend had made up, but he was still feeling quite disappointed that the evening had gone as it had. He tried not to himself become jealous or worried, just disappointed.

_Thinking properly is a problem for many people. I'm glad it's sorted. Can I see you tomorrow? SH_

_Are you too tired for tonight? -JW_

Sherlock looked at his watch. It had just gone eleven.

_Is it too late for you? Would you like to come round? SH_

_I just really want to see you after what happened. -JW_

Sherlock smiled.

_All right. Come round, please. Want to stay the night? SH_

_Yes please. Will it be weird to tell you I missed you? -JW_

_Yes. But I missed you too. Bring pajamas. See you shortly. SH_


	12. Back To Sherlock's For Good

Sherlock stood up and went into the bathroom to wash his face and wake himself up a bit. He tidied up a little and put the kettle on.

John changed into his pajamas, plaid flannel pants and a plain white t-shirt, before putting his coat on and heading over to Sherlock's. He knocked in the door, rocking back and forth on his feet while he waited. 

Sherlock opened the door. "Come in," he said, smiling the second he saw John. "You're handsome."

"Don't tease me," John smiled, coming inside. He felt so much better now and he hoped Sherlock did as well. 

Sherlock turned to watch John come in. As he shut the door, he said, "Are you actually _wearing_ your pajamas? Did you walk here like that?" He laughed as he opened John's coat.

"It's not like they are inappropriate! Shut up," he grinned. 

"Bold fashion choice," Sherlock laughed. "I was kind of already in bed when you texted. Do you want to get in bed and we could watch a movie or something?"

"Sure. You were in bed with your regular clothes on? Or do you always sleep naked?" John asked. 

"Well I wasn't _in_ bed, I was _on_ the bed. But I had fallen asleep. Shush up anyway, you're in no position to judge my clothing!" He moved over to the bed and pulled out his pajamas and changed into them. He got two glasses of water and then walked back to the bed. "Come on then," he said, pulling back the covers.

John climbed into bed and pulled the covers over his legs, leaning back on the headboard. 

Sherlock slid down a little and turned to face John. "I'm glad you've come over," he said. "I'm glad that bad stuff is over and now we're here together again." 

John pet his hair before scooting to lay down as well. "Yeah, I'm really glad too. You feel better now right? I do."

"Yes," Sherlock said. "Your feeling better makes me feel better." He leaned over and gave him a quick kiss.

John smiled and leaned in to kiss him for a bit longer. "Always so quick," he teased. 

Sherlock moved in even closer. "You're good," Sherlock said, kissing John a little harder.

John hummed softly, resting his hand on Sherlock's cheek as they kissed.

Sherlock pulled back, leaned over and turned off the light. He picked up his phone. "Are we going to sleep now?"

"We can," John nodded. He scooted a bit closer and kissed Sherlock's cheek. Then his jaw. Then his neck.

"Mmm," Sherlock moaned softly. He reached over and held the small of John's back. "That feels nice," he said softly.

"Actually, I'm not really sleepy," John mumbled, dipping lower, kissing along his collarbone.

Sherlock leaned in and kissed John's neck as well, sucking lightly on the skin. His hands moved up John's back a bit as his fingertips gripped the muscles underneath his t-shirt.

John came so close he was practically lying over Sherlock, dragging his lips up to kiss his mouth again, harder than before. 

Sherlock smiled, shifting slightly so he was completely underneath John. Now he could more easily wrap both arms around him, and he slid his hands under his t-shirt, massaging John's back. He moaned softly into the kiss. 

"Sherlock," John moaned softly, rolling his hips against Sherlock's. "Is this okay? I want…to do it." His hands came up and tugged at his shirt, trying to get it off without moving too far away.

Sherlock smiled. "I want to, too, John," he said, pulling off his shirt and lifting John's over his head.

John ran his hands up Sherlock's ribs to his chest, leaning down to kiss him. He ran his hands over Sherlock's nipples, rolling his hips again.

"Mouth," Sherlock moaned quietly. "Use your mouth on my chest . . . please."

John dragged his mouth down, sucking one of his nipples into his mouth before licking across to the other one. 

"I like that," Sherlock mumbled softly. His hands moved up and down John's back. One slid a little bit under the waistband of John's pajama bottoms.

John rolled Sherlock's nipple between his teeth before continuing down, kissing and licking along his belly.

"John, promise me you'll say what you do or don't want to do -- don't make me guess," Sherlock said. "Promise to tell me." He rested one hand on John's shoulder.

"I promise," John nodded against Sherlock, kissing under his navel. "I want to suck your cock again," he said, kissing lower 

Sherlock's stomach fluttered a little. He lifted his head up. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," John answered, kissing his way up Sherlock's shaft. "I want to, Sherlock."

"I want you to, John," Sherlock said, lying back on his pillow. "It feels nice." He closed his eyes and just concentrated on the feeling of John's kisses.

John hummed softly and sucked Sherlock into his mouth, bobbing slowly.

"God, John," Sherlock moaned softly.

John looked up at him as he moved, loving the sounds Sherlock was making and loving even more that he was causing them.

"John, not too much longer . . . it's too nice," Sherlock kind of whispered. He reached down to touch John's hair softly.

John pulled off softly and kissed his hip. "Tell me what you want," he said.

"To do that to you," Sherlock said, looking down at him.

"Do you want to come first or wait?" John asked.

"Wait," Sherlock said. "It all feels good. I don't want it to end."

John smiled and kissed his mouth softly. "Yeah, it does feel really good," he said quietly.

"Can I do it to you?" Sherlock asked, kissing him back.

John nodded.  "I would really like that," he smiled.

Sherlock moved himself down the bed, kissing John as he did. When he got to his waist, he pulled on John's pajama bottoms to help him take them off. Then he kissed John's cock softly before licking stripes up and down it. He held it with one hand, swirling his tongue around the tip. Once it was a bit wet, he started a slow stroke as he sucked lightly on the tip.

John squirmed lightly as Sherlock moved along his body, moaning when he felt Sherlock's warm mouth around him. He reached down and pet his hair softly.

Sherlock took more of John into his mouth, moving his tongue along the sides and holding the base in one hand. His other hand gripped John's thigh. He pressed himself against John's leg -- the taste and sounds of John were driving him crazy.

"Fuck Sherlock, you're so good . . ." John moaned.

"It's not me," Sherlock said, slipping John from his mouth. "It's us. All this is because of us." He went back to licking John's cock as he moved his hand up and down it.

John's hips rocked and his hands gripped the sheets. "I-I like us," he said softly

Sherlock wiggled back up the bed, still moving his hand on John's cock. "I love us," he said before kissing John's mouth hard.

John kissed back, matching his ferocity and leaning up into him for more. He rolled his hips, grinding his own cock against Sherlock's with a loud moan into the kiss.

"Do you want to try sex?" Sherlock whispered into John's ear. "We don't have to."

John nodded, still rolling up into Sherlock. "I want to, please."

"Okay," Sherlock said, putting a kiss on his mouth. "But you know we can stop at anytime, yeah?" He leaned over and opened a drawer. He pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom. He moved a little to push John down on his back on the bed. "We can stop anytime," he repeated. 

"I know," John said. He pushed up against Sherlock, moaning and clutching at his back.

"I need to use my fingers first, so it's easier . . .it might feel unusual but I only want it to feel good. We're not in a rush -- we've got all the time in the world," Sherlock said. He leaned over and poured some lube in his hand. He slicked John's cock first and then said, "Touch this -- it feels nice with the lube." Then he lowered his hand and slicked between John's legs. He slid over to the side of John and put kisses on his chest as he brushed his fingertips over John's hole.

John nodded, stroking himself slowly so he wouldn't come too quickly. "I'm glad it's you," he said.

"I'm glad it's me, too, John," Sherlock said softly, pushing one fingertip a little inside John. "I don't know why we met but I am so happy we did." He kissed his chest again. "I like doing this, John," Sherlock said, keeping his voice soft and calm. He moved his finger a little further in before starting a slow rhythm. "Does it feel good?"

"Yes, it feels so good, Sherlock." John looked up at him and leaned up to kiss his neck.

"Don't let it hurt -- the lube helps, I can use more," Sherlock looked down and kissed John's mouth. "Relax your body as much as you can," he said and pushed a second finger in. As he did he sucked softly on John's neck.

"It doesn't hurt," John assured him. He laced his fingers into Sherlock's hair, moving lightly with him.

"Good, this is what'll be like, just a little . . . different, more, I guess. Do you think you still want to do it? I like doing this -- we can just keep doing this if you want."  
  
John nodded. "I want to try it. I'll tell you if I change my mind." He kissed Sherlock again, pushing down on his hand. 

"Okay," Sherlock got up and moved over John. He spread John's legs and scooted in between them. He rolled a condom on and lined himself up. He pushed in the tip and then leaned over John, his hands on either side of John's shoulders. "I'm going to push all the way in now. Look up at me and relax your body," he said softly. He leaned down and kissed John's mouth as he slowly pushed into him.

John whimpered as he felt Sherlock start -- it was definitely much more than his fingers -- but he gazed up at him and focused on breathing, on Sherlock moving into his body.

"God, you feel good," Sherlock moaned, pressing his mouth against the side of John's head.

John wrapped an arm around him and nodded. "You . . .you feel so good, so close," he murmured. 

"I don't want it to last too long," Sherlock said quietly. "I don't want you to be too sore and I'll be honest, it feels so good, I won't be able to last much longer. Can I go a little faster?"

John nodded, pushing up a bit to encourage him. He slipped his own hand between them to stroke himself.

Sherlock started a rhythm, pushing into John firmly but not too roughly. "God, it feels good -- better than anything." He dropped his head down and sucked on John's ear. "It won't be long," he whispered, "I'm sorry but I can already tell . . ." His hips started to move a bit faster and his breath changed and all of a sudden he was coming and calling John's name.

John arched up off of the bed. His hand was moving against their bellies, faster and faster until he was coming, moaning and panting into Sherlock's ear.

Sherlock moved with John through his orgasm and then slid to his side, pulling off the condom. He looked over at John's face. "Are you okay? Did you like it?" he asked, softly stroking John's cheek.

When Sherlock pulled out, John felt different -- empty and open -- but only because it had felt so right with Sherlock inside. "Yes," he said, turning to curl into him. "Did you?"

"God, yes," Sherlock said, smiling. "It was better than anything I've ever felt." He kissed him lightly. "You've changed things for me, John. You make me feel good in a way I didn't think possible."

John smiled softly. "I'm glad I did that with you," he murmured. "It was better because it was you."

Sherlock made soft little circles with his fingertip across John's chest. "It wasn't me, John," he said. "The right reasons made it better."


End file.
